Skip to main content
Internet Archive's 25th Anniversary Logo

Full text of "Blam! The explosion of pop, minimalism, and performance 1958-1964"

See other formats




Digitized by the Internet Archive 
in 2013 






with an essay on The American Independent Cinema 

Whitney Museum of American Art, New Yorl< 

in association with W. W. Norton & Connpany, 
New York, London 

Dates of the cxliibitiun: September 20-December 2, 1984 

Copyright v 1984 

Whitney Museum of American Art 

945 Madison Avenue 

New York, New York 10U21 


Haskell, Barbara. 

Blam! the explosion of pop, minimalism, and performance, 

Published in connection with an exhibition held at the 
Whitney Museum, Sept. 20-Dec. 2, 1984. 

Bibliography: p. 

1. Arts, American — Exhibitions. 2. Avant-garde (Aesthetics) 
— United States — History — 20th century — Exhibitions. 
I. Hanhardt, John G. II. Whitney Museum of American Art. 
III. Title. 

NX504.H36 1984 700'.973'0740I47I 84-7304 
ISBN 0-87427-000-6 (Whitney Museum of American Art; 
softcover edition) 

ISBN 0-393-01935-7 (W. W. Norton & Company; hardcover 

Specific copyright is reserved as follows: © John Cohen, 1960 
through 1984; © Walter De Maria, 1961 (Fig. 140); © Dia Art 
Foundation, New York, 1984 (Fig. lOI); © Al Giese, 1963 through 
1984; C; Richard C. Higgins, all rights reserved, reprinted by 
permission, 1961 and 1982; © Martha Holmes, Time magazine; 
© Robert R. McElroy, 1960 through 1984; © Peter Moore, 1963 
through 1984. 

This publication was organized at the Whitney Museum of 
American Art by Doris Palca, Head, Publications and Sales; 
Sheila Schwartz, Editor; Elaine Koss, Associate Editor; and 
Amy Curtis, Secretary/Assistant. 
Designer: Bruce Campbell 
Typesetter: Trufont Typographers, Inc. 
Printer: Eastern Press, Inc. 


The photographs reproduced have been supplied in the majority of 
cases by the owners or custodians of the works of art or by the 
photographers, as credited in the captions. The following list 
applies to photographs for which an additional acknowledgment 
is due. Numbers refer to figures. 

Harry N. Abrams, Inc., New York: 2; Tom Arndt: 90; Bob Benson; 
138; Ferdinand Boesch: 9; Scott Bowron: 95; Rudolph Burckhardt: 
4, 5, 6, 21, 23, 103, 105, 112, 115, 117, 119, 126, 127, 129, 130, 135, 
136, 147, 153, 154, 155; Francesco Cantarella: 43; Leo Castelli 
Gallery, New York: 99, 141, 143; Catalogue 1962 Wiesbaden 
Fluxus 1982: 52; Geoffrey Clements: 84, 104, 108, 125, 151; John 
Cohen: 29, 31; Rainer Crone: 98; Bevan Davies: 96; Roy Elkind; 
74; Flow Ace Gallery, Los Angeles; 146; Jack Gunter; 132; Mark 
Heddon; 145, 148; George Franklin Hurych: 16; Scott Hyde; 14, 
25; Kate Keller: 15; Robert Mates: 152; Robert R. McElroy: 54, 85; 
Dennis McWaters: 22; Albert Mozell: 1 1; The Museum of 
Contemporary Art, Chicago: 91; The National Gallery of Canada, 
Ottawa; 132, 133, 134; Claes Oldenburg: 17, 18, 19, 81, 149; Eric 
Pollitzer; 56, 92, 93, 94, 109, 113, 116, 122, 124, 152; Nathan Rabin; 
10; Seymour Rosen: 107; Walter Russell: 1 10, 144; Tim Rautert: 
140; Marc Schuman; 102; Duane Suter: 3; Frank J. Thomas: 
156; Jerry L.Thompson; 106, 118, 128; Dan Walworth: 101; 
Virginia Zabnskie Gallery, New York; 1; Dorothy Zeldman: 142 

Frontispiece; Jim Dine in his Happening The Smiling Workman 
at the Judson Gallery, Judson Memorial Church, New York, 1960. 
Photograph by Martha Holmes, Time magazine. 



FOREWORD by Tom Armstrong 8 



PERFORMANCE 1958-1964 by Barbara Haskell 11 

Introduction 12 

The Aesthetics of Junk 15 

Happenings 31 

Fluxus 49 

The New American Dance 61 

Pop Art 69 

Minimalism 91 

Epilogue 105 


by John G. Hanhardt 117 

CHRONOLOGY by Susan J. Cooke 137 




ASHER B. Edelman 

Henry and Elaine Kaufman Foundation 

The Leonard and Evelyn Lauder Fund 

Howard and Jean Lipman Foundation, Inc. 

Robert and Meryl Meltzer 

Robert and Jane Meyerhoff 

National Endowment for the Arts 

Dorothy and Lawson Reed, Jr. 

The Billy Rose Foundation, Inc. 

Charles Simon 

Laura-Lee Woods 

Anonymous Donor 

Funds for this catalogue were provided, in part, by the 
Edith C. Blum Foundation 


During the decade following the end of 
World War II, the achievements of the Ab- 
stract Expressionists brought American 
art to a position of international pre-eminence for 
the first time, and the aesthetics and ideology of 
Abstract Expressionism came to dominate the art 
of the 1950s. However, late m that decade, a 
number of artists who were to have a major influ- 
ence m the 1960s and 1970s started to search for 
alternative forms of expression. We now realize 
that the period from 1958 to 1964 was a critical 
time of transition in American art, as the unques- 
tioned hegemony of Abstract Expressionism began 
to falter and the new movements of Pop Art and 
Minimalism emerged. This was also the period 
when young American artists began to receive 
more recognition in Europe than in the United 
States, and European museums and private collec- 
tors began to assemble collections of contemporary 
art that far exceeded those of their American coun- 
terparts. The Whitney Museum of American Art is 
pleased to offer the pubUc an opportunity to exam- 
ine, through this exhibition and accompanying 
book, the issues explored by American artists dur- 
ing those turbulent and amazingly creative years. 
On behalf of the Trustees and staff of the Whit- 
ney Museum, I extend our appreciation to the lend- 
ers of the exhibition for their generous cooperation 
throughout the organization and presentation of 
this endeavor. We are also grateful for the support 
of the National Endowment for the Arts, which 
continues its commitment to twentieth-century 
American art with a grant for this exhibition. 
Finally, we sincerely appreciate the assistance of 
the individuals and foundations listed in the front 
of this book who believed in the importance of this 
project and whose financial help has made the ex- 
hibition possible. 
Tom Armstrong 


In seeking to review the period 1958 to 1964, I 
have been fortunate in receiving an excep- 
tionally full measure of goodwill and support 
from many of the individuals who actively partici- 
pated in the events of those years. In particular, I 
would like to thank Richard Bellamy, Walter De 
Maria, Martha Edelheit, Red Grooms, Dick Hig- 
gins, Sidney Jams, Ivan Karp, Alison Knowles, Roy 
Lichtenstein, Jackson Mac Low, Robert Morris, 
Claes Oldenburg, Yvonne Rainer, Lucas Samaras, 
George Segal, Anita Simons, and La Monte Young 
for their willingness to share with me their rec- 
ollections of the period. I am indebted as well to 
Barbara Moore, who was more than generous in 
making available her research material on Fluxus 
and who offered important clarifications on the 
Fluxus section of the manuscript. My thanks also 
go to William Agee, Leon Botstein, and Robert 
Rosenblum for their insights and advice about the 
manuscript, and to Marcia Siegel for her sugges- 
tions about the section on dance. 

I am immensely grateful to the individuals and 
institutions who consented to lend valuable and 
fragile works to the exhibition; without their gen- 
erosity this presentation would have fallen far 
short of Its goal of bringing together seminal works 
from the period. The same is true for those artists 
who agreed to re-create earlier Fiappenings sets and 
environments, thereby enabling the public to expe- 
rience again these transient artworks. 

Neither the exhibition nor the catalogue could 
have been successfully realized without the un- 
flinching commitment shown by Tom Armstrong, 
Director of the Whitney Museum, and by members 
of the Board of Trustees, in particular. Flora Biddle, 
Victor Ganz, and Fioward Lipman. Their support 
joined an extraordinary effort made by the entire 
staff of the Whitney Museum. In this regard, I 
would especially like to thank Jennifer Russell, Pat 
Brownstone, Linda Gordon, Dana Stein-Dince, and 
Sheila Schwartz. 

I have been fortunate to have had an especially 
high level of assistance from the staff that worked 
with me. Susan Cooke, a superior research as- 
sistant, not only took responsibility for compiling 

the Chronology and Bibliography, but was also inti- 
mately involved in virtually every aspect of the 
organization of the exhibition and catalogue. Her 
work has been the mainstay of the project. I am 
equally grateful to Deborah Leveton for her for- 
titude throughout the project and for her efficient 
handling and careful attention to the multitude of 
details that inevitably arose. Others in the depart- 
ment who made a briefer, but nonetheless signifi- 
cant and highly appreciated, contribution were Vera 
Cvikevich, Suzanne Dickerson, Elizabeth Evans, 
Louis Grachos, George Greos, and Mary Jo Marks. 

I owe a large measure of gratitude to Oliver 
Lundquist for his assistance with the difficult and 
complex job of designing the installation. Robert R. 
McElroy, John Cohen, Al Giese, and Peter Moore 
generously made their photographic archives avail- 
able and patiently filled numerous requests for 
prints. My thanks go to them as well as to Arlene 
Carmine, Tibor de Nagy, David Farneth, Fred 
Flughes, Olivia Motch, and Virginia Zabriskie for 
their help in assembling catalogue material. In ad- 
dition, the Leo Castelli, Sidney Janis, and David 
Anderson galleries were particularly generous in 
supplying photographs for the catalogue. 

Most of all, I would like to thank the individuals 
and foundations whose belief in this project and 
support of its presentation were essential m guar- 
anteeing Its realization. It is, of course, customary 
to thank individuals whose contributions make ex- 
hibitions possible. In this case, the thanks are more 
than routine, for the present donors contributed far 
more than financial backing: they contributed 
moral and professional support at a critical time in 
the exhibition's development. My hope is that this 
exhibition and catalogue merit the faith they have 
displayed. B.H. 

In the preparation of "The American Independent 
Cinema 1958-1964," a number of research librar- 
ies and individuals provided valuable assistance. I 
am grateful to Anthology Film Archives, The Mu- 
seum of Modern Art's Film Study Center, Jonas 
Mekas, P. Adams Sitney, Raymond Carney, Robert 
Breer, Amos Vogel, and Callie Angell. J.G.Fi. 






Between 1958 and 1964, the arts in America 
underwent a dramatic upheaval. Within this 
seven-year period, a group of young artists 
re-evaluated and ultimately overturned the ide- 
ology and formal strategies associated with art of 
the past. These were transition years in which the 
mdividuals later identified with the art of the 
1960s and 1970s forged a new aesthetic by adapting 
the premises of Abstract Expressionism to un- 
precedented kinds of subject matter. In the process, 
they established a radically different sensibility — 
one whose style and notoriety were to have a last- 
ing impact on the philosophy of art-making and on 
the relationship between art and society. 

The onset of this artistic era was publicly her- 
alded in 1958 by two exhibitions in New York, in 
which Jasper Johns and Robert Rauschenberg pre- 
sented works incorporating everyday objects and 
motifs hitherto considered inappropriate for art. In 
that same year, Allan Kaprow constructed his first 
environment out of found objects and taped elec- 
tronic music, and enacted his first public Happen- 
ing. These presentations reflected the influence of 
composer John Cage's theories about the inter- 
changeability of art and life. Cage's twenty-five- 
year retrospective concert in New York in May 
1958 and the class he taught that academic year on 
experimental music composition at the New 
School for Social Research encouraged a variety of 
artists from all disciplines to venture into non-nar- 
rative and non-traditional forms of performance. 
Out of these experiences artists evolved fresh para- 
digms for music, theater, dance, sculpture, and 
painting which found expression in Happenings, 
Fluxus, the Judson Dance Theater, and Pop Art. 
Other artists, meanwhile, responding in many 
cases to the same stimuli, were formulating a more 
abstract style which came to be known as Mini- 
malism — seen, for example, in Frank Stella's first 
Black paintings of 1958. Examining the emergence 
of these various styles synchronistically reveals the 
uniquely close interaction that existed between 
artists in all media during this period, an inter- 
disciplinary exchange that exerted a critical impact 
on the evolution of the new aesthetic. 

The artists whose work stamped the aesthetic 
character of the sixties began their careers in the 
shadow of Abstract Expressionism. For the five 
years following 1958 their art retained much of the 
rawness, spontaneity, emotionalism, and surface 
gesture of their predecessors. It was not until the 
beginning of 1964 that the revisionism which had 
begun in 1958 took firm hold: in painting and 
sculpture, a hard-edged, seemingly depersonalized 
style superseded the rough, relatively handmade 
quality of the artists' formative work; in the perfor- 
mance arts, media attention and the shift to more 
blatantly dramatic styles caused artists to move in 
separate directions, severing the camaraderie and 
closely knit community that had prevailed since 
1958. Looking back, Yvonne Rainer described the 
spirit of those earlier times as "a dare-devil 
willingness to 'try anything,' the arrogance of our 
certainty that we were breaking ground, the exhila- 
ration produced by the response of the incredibly 
partisan audiences. . . ."' But at the end of 1963, a 
curtain descended and a new chapter began. 

While the sixties as a decade has received exten- 
sive discussion, the years between 1958 and 1964 
have never been examined as a self-contained, in- 
terdisciplinary period.^ This is due, in part, to the 
widespread acclaim bestowed on the artists' 
post- 1964 work and, in part, to the critical habit of 
discussing the decade of the sixties as if it were a 
homogeneous entity. The advantage of some 
twenty-five years' perspective confirms different 
chronological distinctions. 

This essay is not intended to present a com- 
prehensive history of American art during the 
years 1958 to 1964. It does not include, for exam- 
ple, the Color Field and figurative painters, but in- 
stead focuses on those artists whose shared origins 
and parallel ideologies formed an intellectually co- 
hesive aesthetic."* In this way, the discussion iso- 
lates those concerns and visual modes that most 
profoundly served as the models for the art of the 
next generation. Even though the condition of art 
at any given moment is, as Donald Judd noted, 
"messy,"-* and, like E. M. Forster's description of 
daily life, "full of false clues and sign-posts that 


Introduction 13 

lead nowhere/"' such an approach offers important 
insights into the motivations for aesthetic change 
and the degree to which the artists who came to 
maturity in the early sixties built upon and trans- 
formed past styles in the process of forging new 
aesthetic principles. 

The Backdrop for Revolt 

The aesthetic upheaval of the years 1958-64 was 
staged against the backdrop of Abstract Expres- 
sionism, a style which had been in ascendancy 
since World War II. Notwithstanding the existence 
of other modes of expression, this New York-based 
school of painting dominated the aesthetic sig- 
nature of the 1950s. By the end of the decade, it had 
attained a level of international prestige and influ- 
ence unparalleled in American art. 

Abstract Expressionism or, more precisely. Ac- 
tion Painting, its gestural manifestation, was predi- 
cated on the communicability of subjective feeling 
and inner emotions by means of the pictorial "act." 
It posited an art "inseparable from the biography of 
the artist," wrote Harold Rosenberg, one of the de- 
cade's foremost critics.^ Personal expression was 
the exalted virtue. Art was viewed as a vehicle of 
metaphor and symbol, transcribed onto canvas 
through a painterly vocabulary of loose, freely ap- 
plied, thick paint. 

As practiced by its progenitors — Willem de 
Kooning, Jackson Pollock, and Franz Kline, for ex- 
ample — Abstract Expressionism was a fiercely lib- 
erating, powerful style. But by the late 1950s, a 
crisis clearly had arisen. In the hands of second- 
and third-generation followers, Abstract Expres- 
sionism seemed to have lost its authenticity and 
conviction. To the younger generation of artists 
who began their careers in the late fifties. Abstract 
Expressionism's original practitioners were heroic, 
mythical figures. But it seemed easier for their fol- 
lowers — Milton Resnick, Joan Mitchell, and Alfred 
Leslie, among the best — to imitate the superficial 
aspect of Abstract Expressionism's thickly 
brushed, bravura painting style than to absorb its 
generative spirit. By 1958 these epigones numer- 
ically dominated the art scene to such an extent 
that the initial power of Abstract Expressionism 
had become diluted. For a younger generation. Ab- 
stract Expressionism seemed "like a fire that had 

burned itself into cold embers," as Walter De Maria 
later observed.'' To the young artists arriving in 
New York at the end of the decade, expressive paint 
handling had degenerated into a decorative, aca- 
demic mannerism. When Art News ran a two-part 
series of interviews in 1959 on the subject 
of whether or not a new academy existed, the an- 
swer was uniformly affirmative.'^ Friedel Dzubas 
summed up the sentiments of many: "Why is it 
that after an evening of openings on Tenth Street, I 
come away feeling exhausted from the spectacle of 
boredom and the seemingly endless repetition of 
safe sameness? I wonder why people — especially 
young people — continue to do something which in 
its results is as dreary and dim as a late Victorian 
front parlor, and as respectable.'"^ 

Paradoxically, at the very time that Abstract Ex- 
pressionism was perceived as exhausted and bank- 
rupt, it simultaneously exerted a hegemony so ab- 
solute that it offered young artists no room to 
maneuver. There seemed to be nothing more that 
could be done within its style: "De Kooning had 
already painted all my paintings," Tom Wessel- 
mann declared. '° When asked what had precipi- 
tated his break with the past, Roy Lichtenstein re- 
plied: "Desperation. There were no spaces left 
between Milton Resnick and Mike Goldberg."" At 
some point every generation feels the need to ex- 
plore territory different from that occupied by its 
elders. "Must we remain the obedient children of 
our ancient fathers? Isn't it about time we went for 
a stroll on our own in 1959?" George Sugarman 
asked. '-^ Clearly the moment was propitious for a 

*-T ■ 




The Aesthetics of funk 

The first wave of the assault against Abstract Ex- 
pressionism occurred within its very ranks as art- 
ists such as Al Held, Ray Parker, and Robert Good- 
nough reacted against the formlessness of Abstract 
Expressionism by organizing their brushed areas of 
paint into more discrete, legible shapes. Yet ul- 
timately their efforts did not resolve the question 
that plagued the upcoming generation: whether in 
fact subjective states could be transmitted. To 
younger artists, the existential rhetoric surround- 
ing Abstract Expressionism no longer seemed via- 
ble. In response, a number of them during the 
1950s began to search for an art that would focus 
on the "real" world rather than on abstraction. In- 
deed, even stalwarts like de Kooning and Pollock 
had grown restless with abstraction by the mid- 
fifties and had begun to reinsert figurative refer- 
ences into their work. Both had even gone so far as 
to introduce bits of everyday reality — de Kooning 
with newspaper reproductions of Marilyn Monroe; 
Pollock with cigarette butts, glass, and other debris 
accumulated during the process of painting. Still, 
the predominant idiom within Abstract Expres- 
sionism, especially that practiced by the Tenth 
Street School (the name given to the younger 
generation of Abstract Expressionists), did not 
condescend to traffic in images of the concrete 
and material. 

To the artists who arrived in New York in the 
late fifties, the spiritual and philosophical aspira- 
tions of the original Abstract Expressionists were 
awesome; yet these same aspirations generated re- 
sentment because they excluded references to the 
external world. Younger artists chafed at being al- 
lowed to deal with universals but not to paint what 
could be seen or touched. "We found it amazing," 
George Segal recalled later, "that so much avant- 
garde twentieth-century art was rooted in physical 
experiences of the real world and suddenly the Ab- 
stract Expressionists were legislating any reference 
to the physical world totally out of art. This was 
outrageous to us."'^ 

Opposite; Allan Kaprow's environment An Apple Shrine 
(see Fig. 7). 

An early model for inserting the real into art was 
assemblage, the three-dimensional equivalent of 
collage.''* On the surface, assemblage was not a 
form threatening to Abstract Expressionism. Col- 
lage, after all, had been a viable aesthetic option 
since the early twentieth-century papier coUes of 
Pablo Picasso and Georges Braque. The Dadaists, 
convinced that art could be created out of anything 
whatsoever and determined to undermine vener- 
ated cultural standards, extended the Cubist col- 
lage technique into sculpture. By the heyday of Sur- 
realism in the 1920s, found objects had become an 
accepted part of the artist's vocabulary. 

In the late fifties assemblage exploded onto cen- 
ter stage. Richard Stankiewicz and lean Follett had 
been making junk sculpture since the early 1950s, 
but only began to achieve a modicum of success 
later in the decade (Figs. 1, 2). Louise Nevelson had 
her first show of found-object constructions in 

Fig. 1. Richard Stankiewicz, Cham People, 1960. Iron and 
steel, 50 X 16 X 17" (127 x 40.6 x 43.2 cm). Collection of 
Hanford Yang. 


16 The Aesthetics of junk 


Fig. 2. Jean Follctt, Untitled, 
1955. Mixed media construc- 
tion, 60 X 84" (152.4 x 213.4 
cm). Present whereabouts un- 

Fig. 3. Robert Rauschenberg, Canyon, 1959. Combine-paint- 
ing: oil, pencil, paper, metal, photograph, fabric, wood, on 
canvas, plus buttons, mirror, stuffed eagle, cardboard box, 
pillow, and paint tube, %VA x 70 x 24" (207.6 x 177.8 
X 61 cm). Collection of lleana and Michael Sonnabend, on 
indefinite loan to The Baltimore Museum of Art. 

1959, followed by shows of the European as- 
semblagists Eduardo Paolozzi and Jean Tinguely in 

1960. And Leo Castelli (who would play a major 
role in the promotion of Pop Art) added the as- 
semblagists Lee Bontecou and Edward Higgins to 
his gallery in 1959 and 1960, respectively. The crit- 
ical respect accorded these sculptors in America 
made it increasingly legitimate to use refuse from 
the environment as raw material for art. But how- 
ever radical this work was, it was not an overt chal- 
lenge to artistic authorship because these pur- 
loined materials were transformed into abstract or 
anthropomorphic images. They had no specific 
content of their own, no explicit referential value 
external to the work of art. Stankiewicz and 
Paolozzi combined their junk materials into witty, 
human surrogates reminiscent of the Con- 
structivist assemblages of Picasso, Julio Gonzalez, 
and David Smith; Nevelson and FoUett integrated 
their found objects into unified pictorial designs by 
treating them as abstract compositional elements 
purged of all references to their previous lives. Nev- 
ertheless, inherent in assemblage from the start 
was an impatience with the distinction between 
art and life. To those dissatisfied with Abstract Ex- 
pressionism's detachment from perceptible reality, 

the interjection of commonplace materials by 
means of assemblage was seen as a way of rescuing 
art from overly subjective and rarefied realms and 
bringing it back into contact with the ordinary and 
the "real." 

The artist who extended the referential implica- 
tions of found objects was Robert Rauschenberg.'"^ 
Even in his first New York exhibition, in 1953, he 
had gone beyond the bounds of decorum with a 
series of black paintings that incorporated dirt, 
scrap metal, rocks, and pieces of lumber he had 
collected off the street. The aext year Rauschen- 
berg exhibited a group of all-red paintings, also 
thickly encrusted with urban debris. But now the 
separate elements were more distinguishable than 
they had been in the black series. Although the 
show astonished visitors, nothing in this or subse- 
quent Rauschenberg exhibitions prepared the art 
community for the work in his 1958 Castelli show. 

The Aesthetics of funk 1 7 

Fig. 4. Robert Rauschenberg, Winter Pool, 1959. Combine- 
painting: oil, paper, fabric, metal, transparent tape, wood, 
on canvas, plus wood ladder, handkerchief, and button, 
89'/2 X 58'/2 X 4" (227.3 x 148.6 x 10.2 cm). Collection of 
Mr. and Mrs. Victor W. Ganz. 

Fig. 5. Robert Rauschenberg, Pilgrim, I960. Combine-paint- 
ing: oil, pencil, paper, fabric, on canvas, plus wood chair, 
79'/4 X 53'/4 X 18%" (201.3 x 135.3 x 4.3 cm). Museum 
Folkwang, Essen, West Germany. 

These pieces went far beyond assemblage in the 
type and the scale of found objects employed — 
stuffed birds, doors, pillows, tires (Fig. 3). 
Rauschenberg's uncompromising acceptance of 
"inappropriate" materials unequivocally marked 
him as a renegade. He embraced the referential as- 
sociations of his derelict and banal objects but, un- 
like the Surrealists, did not capitalize on the nar- 
rative overtones produced by their juxtapositions. 
His objects were simply themselves: blunt, un- 
disguised things with paint on them. The results 
infuriated critics, who assumed his sole purpose 
was an insidious attack on art. The component ma- 
terials of his "combines" — the word he used to de- 
scribe works that were neither paintings (because 
they were freestanding) nor sculptures (because 
painting figured so prominently in them) — seemed 
utterly too ephemeral and pedestrian to qualify as 
high art (Figs. 4, 5). There were few sales; "no one 
wanted junk in their house," Ivan Karp later ex- 
plained, i*^ 

18 The Aesthetics of Junk 

Fig. 6. Robert Rauschenberg, Bed, 1955. Combine-painting 
with bed: oil and pencil on pillow, quilt, sheet, on wood 
supports, 751/4 X 31'/2 X 6'/2" (191.1 x 80 x 16.5 cm). 
Collection of Mr. and Mrs. Leo Castelli. 

The aesthetic lessons of Abstract Expressionism, 
however, were not entirely lost on Rauschenberg. 
Instead of rejecting its virtuoso brushwork, he sim- 
ply applied it to mundane objects (Fig. 6) — a con- 
junction that marked the first break with the 
orthodoxy of Abstract Expressionism. Rauschen- 
berg's innovative use of materials which evoked 
the grit of everyday street life, although distaste- 
ful to many, became a rallying point for younger 

It was Allan Kaprow who took the next step by 
uniting Rauschenberg's treatment of found objects 
and perishable urban refuse with what he felt were 
the spatial implications of Pollock's paintings.'^ 
For Kaprow, Pollock's large-scale, all-over canvases 
had become environments in their own right, ex- 
tending psychologically beyond the rectangle into 
the room and enveloping the viewer. In Pollock's 

hands, he argued, the "act of painting" had become 
a ritual in which painting was merely one of the 
materials. To go beyond Pollock meant going 
beyond painting. 

Pollock, as I see him, left us at the point where 
we must become preoccupied with and even 
dazzled by the space and objects of our everyday 
life, either our bodies, clothes, rooms, or, if need 
be, the vastness of Forty-Second Street. Not sat- 
isfied with the suggestion through paint of our 
other senses, we shall utilize the specific sub- 
stances of sight, sound, movements, people, 
odors, touch. Objects of every sort are materials 
for the new art: paint, chairs, food, electric and 
neon lights, smoke, water, old socks, a dog, 
movies, a thousand other things which will be 
discovered by the present generation of artists 
.... The young artist . . . will discover out of 
ordinary things the meaning of ordinariness. He 
will not try to make them extraordinary. Only 
their real meaning will be stated.'*^ 

Kaprow's assemblages began to extend further 
and further from the wall into the space of the 
room, making literal what had only been implied 
by Pollock's non-hierarchical canvases. In his ex- 
hibition at the Hansa Gallery in New York in the 
fall of 1958, Kaprow created an encompassing, 
maze-like environment. Viewers made their way 
through strips of slashed and painted colored fabric 
suspended from the ceiling in rows, interspersed 
with sheets of plastic, crumpled cellophane, tan- 
gles of Scotch tape, and Christmas lights. Once 
every hour five tape machines located around the 
gallery played electronic music. '^ 

This environment, as well as Kaprow's subse- 
quent ones, differed markedly from the European 
precedents established by Kurt Schwitters' Merz- 
bau, the Surrealists' enveloping exhibition installa- 
tions, and by Frederick Kiesler, the architect-de- 
signer whose installation design for the opening of 
Peggy Guggenheim's Art of This Century Gallery 
in 1944 called for pictures to be suspended in mid- 
air or obliquely projected on poles from the walls. 
While allied technically to these earlier forms, 
Kaprow's environments remained fundamentally 
indebted to and nourished by Abstract Expres- 
sionism: he translated its energy, improvisational 
technique, and textural attributes into actual ma- 

terials (Fig. 7). His cluttered, seemingly disordered 
arrangement of street junk suggested flux and im- 
permanence, an association with Abstract Expres- 
sionism furthered by his gestural handling of paint. 
Indeed, visually, Kaprow's environments seemed a 
natural extension of the Abstract Expressionist 

Kaprov^'s works were nevertheless quite different 
from their Abstract Expressionist antecedents: 
they mark a shift from a subjective abstraction to- 
ward a more objective, unmediated relationship 
with the environment. By interjecting soiled and 
untidy artifacts of the street, Kaprow, along with 
Rauschenberg, evolved a new vernacular realism. 
This attraction to concrete objects would shortly 
lead artists into Happenings and, from there, into 
Pop Art. 

Kaprow's environments sufficiently shocked the 
public to warrant his (and Rauschenberg's) inclu- 
sion in a March 1958 Newsweek article entitled 
"Trend to the 'Anti-Art.' " -^ The article named Kap- 
row as one of the dangerous radicals on the art 
horizon whose work threatened to overthrow sac- 
rosanct values. The art community's perception of 
the work was similar but its conclusion was dif- 
ferent: a year after his appearance in Newsweek, 
Kaprow was selected as one of the up-and-coming 
artists in the prestigious Art in America New Tal- 
ent Awards.^' 

There were several galleries in New York City that 
supported such alternative expressions. The pro- 
totype was the Hansa Gallery, later described by 
George Segal as "an embryo that hinted at most of 
the major directions in art in New York."^-^ 
Founded as an artists' cooperative in 1952 by for- 
mer students of Hans Hofmann, the gallery served 
as the epicenter for a group of artists who were 
seeking ways to modify what they viewed as the 
restrictive content of Abstract Expressionism, 
either with figurative images or with found ob- 
jects. Its membership included the assemblagists 
Stankiewicz and Follett as well as Ian Miiller and 
Lester Johnson, two figure painters working in a 
heroic, humanistic style. Kaprow, along with 
Robert Whitman and Segal, formed the gallery's 
younger contingent." 

The gallery supported itself on monthly dues. 2"* 
Sales, despite low prices, were a rarity. Ivan Karp, 

The Aesthetics of funk 19 

assistant gallery director under Richard Bellamy 
for two years, recalls that it was a sensation to sell 
a painting for $350.^"^ Attendance was so meager 
that much of the time Bellamy sat on a battered rug 
in the center of the gallery and read poetry.'^' 

There existed no common ground in these early 
days between uptown and downtown exhibition 
spaces in New York. The Hansa Gallery's location 
on Central Park South was a notable exception. For 
most younger artists the possibility of an uptown 
show was remote. Even Tenth Street in Greenwich 
Village, where the second-generation Abstract Ex- 
pressionists showed, was beyond their reach. For 
them, activity took place in small. Lower Man- 
hattan maverick establishments often run by art- 
ists. These galleries differed from the Hansa Gal- 
lery, being more like what are today called alter- 
native spaces than commercial establishments. 

The earliest was the City Gallery, run by artist 

Fig. 7. Allan Kaprow's environment An Apple Shrine at the 
Judson Gallery, Judson Memorial Church, New York, 1960. 
Photograph by Robert R. McElroy. 

20 The Aesthetics of lank 

Fig. 8. Documentation of Peter 
Schumann's Totentanz displayed 
in the Hall of Issues in the 
ludson Memorial Church, New 
York, 1962. Photograph hy Peter 

Red Grooms and his partner, Jay Milder. Grooms 
had come to New York from Nashville in 1956. In 
1958, still feeling Uke an outsider, yet anxious to 
show his work, he decided to open a gallery in his 
studio. With the Hansa Gallery as his inspiration. 
Grooms showed deliberately crude, figurative work 
by artists such as Bob Thompson, Lester Johnson, 
and Mimi Gross. It was there that Claes Oldenburg 
and Jim (then Jimmy) Dine had their first public 
exposure in New York. Grooms moved the follow- 
ing year to the Lower East Side, where he opened 
the Delancey Street Museum. Here again he fea- 
tured figurative art, environments, and what by 
then had become their temporal extension. Hap- 
penings. These successive galleries were models for 
other informal artist-run places, especially those 
emphasizing raunchy materials picked up off the 

More public than Grooms' exhibition spaces 
were the Reuben Gallery and the Judson Gallery, 
both of which supported young, downtown artists 
whose work was impermanent, with strong expres- 
sionistic and figurative overtones. The Judson Gal- 
lery, which opened in late 1958, featured a lively 
assortment of experimental and then-unfashiona- 
ble work from both visual and performing artists. 
Located in the basement of the Judson Memorial 
Church on Washington Square, the gallery was one 
aspect of a program initiated by Reverend Howard 

Fig. 9. Lucas Samaras, Untitled, 1959. Cloth and plaster, 
9'/. X 7'/2 X 7Vi" (23.5 x 19.1 x 19.1 cm). Collection of 
the artist. 

The Aesthetics of funk 21 

Moody and his assistant minister, Bud (Bernard) 
Scott, to expand the church's social and political 
involvement with the neighborhood and draw 
upon the creative energies of the community. Not 
surprisingly, considering its location in the center 
of the country's most avant-garde art community, 
it soon became a locus of vital experimentation in 
dance, theater, poetry, and the visual arts.^^ It was 
here, for example, that the }udson Dance Theater 
developed its new language for dance; where many 
of the early Happenings were first staged; where 
the Judson Poet's Theater and Peter Schumann's 
Bread and Butter Theater performed; and where the 
Hall of Issues — a large room used for weekly com- 
munity discussions about politics and aesthetics — 
was located. Functioning like a giant bulletin 
board, the hall was available on Sunday afternoons 
from two to five o'clock, or until the space was 
filled, to any artist who chose to pin, tack, or tape 
any manner of object around the room, be it a 
painting, poem, essay, newspaper clipping, or pho- 
tograph (Fig. 8). The accumulated items remained 
on view until the following Wednesday, when the 
social, political, and aesthetic issues raised by 
them were discussed. 

The second important nexus for the downtown 
community was the Reuben Gallery, opened by 
Anita Reuben in October 1959.^** Initially located 
on Fourth Avenue, the gallery provided what at the 
time was a radical new kind of commercial exhibi- 
tion space — bigger than uptown galleries yet more 
finished than the small storefronts along Tenth 
Street. More important, the gallery also advocated 
a new form of art. Anita Reuben opened her space 
with Kaprow's first public Happening and devoted 
her entire 1960-61 season to this transitory art 

Perhaps because sales were marginal at best, 
there existed a free exchange of artists between the 
Judson and Reuben galleries, with many of those 
who showed regularly at the Reuben Gallery dur- 
ing its two years of existence — George Brecht, Kap- 
row, Robert Whitman, Jim Dine, Claes Oldenburg, 
Lucas Samaras, Red Grooms, Renee Miller (Anita 
Reuben's sister), and Martha Edelheit — exhibiting 
at the Judson Gallery as well. What united these 
artists was their desire to go beyond the rectangle, 
beyond painting as it had previously been prac- 
ticed. As with other downtown artists, a kind of 

vitality and frenzy infused their work. They ex- 
plored new ideas with unremitting relish, combin- 
ing figurative impulses with the physicality and 
textures of low city life. From this period (1959-60) 
came Samaras' plaster figures (Fig. 9); Oldenburg's 
figure paintings and papier mache sculpture (Fig. 
10); Dine's figurative and Rauschenberg-like as- 
semblages (Fig. II); Grooms' figurative paintings 
and collages (Figs. 12, 13); Miller's and Edelheit's 
painted, shaped constructions (Fig. 14); and 
Brecht's found-object boxes (Fig. 15). Using throw- 
away materials — cloth, plaster, cardboard, or pa- 
per — the artists appropriated the rubble of the city 
for both the subject and the materials of their work 
(Fig. 16). 

To these artists, abstract art related only to art; 
they sought, instead, an art related to life. Being 
"real" meant imbuing their work with the grit and 
decay of the city. Oldenburg's sentiments about the 
need to present life rather than transmute it into 

Fig. 10. Claes Oldenburg, Woman's Leg, 1959. Newspaper 
soaked in wheat paste over wire frame, painted with casein, 
38'/2 X l6Vi X 10" (97.8 x 41.9 x 25.4 cm). Collection of 
Raymond Saroff. 

22 The Aesthetics of funk 

Fig. 11. Jim Dine, Greer Suit, 1959. Oil and cloth 
(shown without framej, 62 x 24" (157.5 x 61 cm). 
Collection of the artist. 

abstraction could have stood as a general man- 
ifesto: "If you're a sensitive person," he wrote dur- 
ing this period, "and you live in the city, and you 
want to face the city and not escape from it you just 
have to come to grips . . . with the landscape of the 
city, with the dirt of the city, and the accidental 
possibilities of the city."^"^ 

This attitude was not unlike that held by Beat 
poets Jack Kerouac and Allen Ginsberg — both 
cultural heroes, comparable to movie stars, to this 
generation of artists.^" In Howl, for example, Gins- 
berg had implicitly claimed that nothing was too 
pedestrian or commonplace for poetry; that the ex- 
perience of the supermarket or superhighway was 
as appropriate a subject matter for poetry as the 
sublime. Moreover, the life-style of the Beat sub- 
culture, with its apparent absence of social preten- 
sions, was regarded by young visual artists as the 
paradigm of what living the creative life meant."" 

The downtown art scene in those days was re- 
markably intimate. Everyone knew everyone 
else — not through the bars that had functioned so 
effectively as the social meeting ground for the Ab- 
stract Expressionists, but through encounters at 

Fig. 12. Red Grooms, Portrait of loan, 1959. Oil on canvas, 
58 X 59" (147.3 x 149.9 cm). Collection of Louise and 
Virgil Le Quire. 

Fig. 13. Red Grooms, Policewoman, 1959. Wood and 
metal, 45 x 29 x 10" (114.3 x 73.7 x 25.4 cm). 
David K. Anderson Gallery, New York. 

The Aesthetics of funk 13 

performance events and gallery openings attended 
by dancers, painters, sculptors, musicians, poets, 
and actors. Within this network of artists, aesthetic 
ideologies and loyalties were neither narrowly 
drawn nor mutually exclusive; visual artists 
mingled as freely with dancers and performing art- 
ists as with other painters and sculptors, with the 
result that aesthetic influences moved easily back 
and forth across disciplines. Still, the liveliness of 
the scene notwithstanding, audiences were small, 
collectors almost non-existent. To these artists, 
isolated from the commercial mainstream and liv- 
ing marginal, bohemian existences, the idea of 
making money seemed remote. Being outside the 
Establishment in a special cabal inspired a remark- 
able camaraderie, much like that which had de- 
veloped among the Cubists and Dadaists. Alan Sol- 
omon's description of the Reuben Gallery as 
"almost a secret, a very 'in' thing, known only to a 
small group" applied to the entire range of down- 
town activities.^^ In retrospect it seems almost in- 
evitable that members of such an exclusive yet 
alienated group would take it upon themselves to 
redefine the boundaries of art. 

Fig. 15. George Brecht, Repository, 1961. Mixed media as- 
semblage, 40% X lOVi X 31/8" (102.6 X 26.7 x 7.9 cm). The 
Museum of Modern Art, New York; Larry Aldrich Founda- 
tion Fund. 

Fig. 14. Martha Edelheit, Frabjous Day, 1959. Canvas, sheet 
aluminum, oil, and collage, 58'/2 x 5\Vi" (148.6 x 130.8 cm). 
Collection of the artist. 

Working in this milieu, Oldenburg and Dine began 
to move beyond traditional forms of expression. 
Encouraged by Kaprow's environments, they too 
created totally encompassing found-object tab- 
leaux for their joint exhibition, "Ray-Gun," which 
opened at the Judson Gallery in January 1960.^^ 
Consisting of messy, cluttered arrangements of ur- 
ban refuse, these "huge living constructions," as 
they were billed, exemplified the kind of break art- 
ists were making with Abstract Expressionism. 
Using techniques similar to Kaprow's, Oldenburg 
and Dine substituted found things for paint and 
canvas. And like Kaprow, they retained the "look" 

24 The Aesthetics of junk 

Fig. 16. )im Dine, Bedspnng, I960. Mixed media construction, 48 x 72 x 8" (121.9 x 182.9 x 20.3 cm). Collection of Allan 
Kaprow and Vaughan Rachel. 

The Aesthetics of funk 25 

Fig. 17. Jim Dine in his environment The House at the Judson Gallery, fudson Memorial Church, New York, 1960. 

26 The Aesthetics of Junk 

Fig. 18. Um Dine with materials for his environment The 
House at the Judson Gallery, Judson Memorial Church, New 
York, 1960. 

and spirit of their Abstract Expressionist pre- 
decessors, translating thickly impastoed bravura 
paint into three-dimensional material textures. 

In Dine's environment The House, the gallery 
walls were completely obliterated with a dense ac- 
cretion of paint-splattered rags, paper, found ob- 
jects, scrawled words, and painted images (Figs. 17, 
18)." As was true of all of Dine's work in this 
period, figurative references abounded: hidden 
within the accumulated debris were images of 
heads, eyes, and other body parts. Similarly, Olden- 
burg's tableau The Street was a jumble of two-di- 
mensional, silhouetted figures and objects whose 
ragged, blackened contours and monochrome 
brown-black tones reeked of the decay and bru- 
tality of life in the Lower East Side slums (Fig. 19). 
Oldenburg invited the audience to add its own de- 
bris to the floor of The Street and encouraged other 
artists to pin up anything whatsoever on the "com- 
munication board" he had set up adjacent to the 

Anticipating the open attitude toward commer- 
cial imagery that would later find expression in Pop 


Fig. 19. Claes t)ldenhurg s environment The Street at the Judson Gallery, Judson Memorial Church, New York, 1960. 

Art, the text accompanying the two environments 
identified them as having "derived from Amer- 
ican popular art, street art and other informal 
sources."'"'' In a panel discussion the previous year, 
Oldenburg had already characterized this kind 
of art as a contemporary primitivism, achieved 
through the exploitation of popular culture.^'' This 
approach was again implied in the series of comic 
books Oldenburg, Dine, and various friends pro- 
duced throughout the exhibition on the church's 
stencil machine. ^^ 

Oldenburg reinstalled The Street in May 1960 at 
the Reuben Gallery, where it underwent a slight 
transformation — the disheveled and debris-filled 
Judson Gallery version became substantially less 
dense and more ordered, almost antiseptic by com- 
parison. Rather than tacking figures closely to- 
gether against the wall and littering the floor with 
refuse, Oldenburg now isolated the fragmented 
silhouettes as discrete forms, suspending them 
from the ceiling or projecting them perpendicularly 
from the walls (Fig. 20). In this way the images 
began to assume an independent status — a step 

The Aesthetics of junk 17 

that would lead Oldenburg into Pop Art sculpture. 

This intense two-year period of what was known 
among its practitioners as "junk art" culminated in 
the exhibition "New Media — New Forms," pre- 
sented in two stages at the Martha Jackson Gallery 
in June and September I960 (Fig. 21). What made 
the show particularly noteworthy was its size — 
seventy-one artists participated — and its uptown 
location. The move uptown signaled a new status 
for this art form, from underground expression to 
mainstream phenomenon. The exhibition brought 
together for the first time a wide range of American 
artists with a predilection for found materials of 
street origin — Stankiewicz, Nevelson, Whitman, 
Kaprow, John Chamberlain, Follett, Oldenburg, 
Dine, Mark di Suvero, and Brecht — with European 
artists such as Schwitters and Jean Dubuffet. The 
predominant criterion for inclusion was the artists' 
use of junk or industrial debris. 

The exhibition's broad scope resulted in the 
grouping of artists who in retrospect hardly seem 
to have been part of the same movement. John 
Chamberlain and Mark di Suvero, for example: al- 

Fig. 20. Claes Oldenburg and Anita Reuben in Oldenburg's environment The Street at the Reuben Gallery, New York, 1960. 
Photograph by Charles Rappaport. 

28 The Aesthetics of funk 

Fig. 21. "New Media — New Forms" at the Martha Jackson 
Gallery, New York, [une 1960. 

though both would later exhibit with Pop artists 
and former Hansa and Reuben Gallery artists at 
Bellamy's Green Gallery, their sculpture is more 
properly seen as a three-dimensional extension of 
the imagery and movement of Abstract Expres- 
sionism than as proto-Pop (Figs. 22, 23). While they 
never camouflaged the function or previous life of 
their component materials to the extent that 
Stankiewicz or Nevelson did, they nevertheless re- 
mained essentially indifferent to referential asso- 

Fig. 22. John Chamberlain, Johnny Bird, 1959. Welded and 
pamted steel, 59 x 53 x 45'/2" (149.9 x 134.6 x 115.6 cm) 
Collection of Sydney and Frances Lewis. 

ciations. Thus, their inclusion in the exhibition 
was based primarily on the fact that their work was 
distinctly urban in character and constructed out 
of found, undisguised, chiefly industrial discards. 
Much of the work by the younger assemblagists 
in Martha Jackson's exhibition aggressively high- 
lighted a crudeness and ugliness in the city land- 
scape. In this sense, the artists harked back to the 
Ashcan School, a group of American painters at the 
turn of the century who had likewise sought to 
depict urban life as it was, in all its common and 
seemingly ugly aspects."'''' Both groups incited crit- 
ical wrath. Yet it was not the assemblagists' subject 
matter but their apparent presentation of un- 
transformed materials that was taken by many as 
the greatest affront to good taste. Hilton Kramer, in 
an otherwise measured review, wrote: 

the bulk of the work in the "New Forms — New 
Media" exhibitions cannot be looked at twice . . . 
because the material itself has at no point been 
submitted to a conception that is sufficiently 
compelling to sustain itself as art. . . . Many of 
the assemblages of junk at the Jackson exhibition 
have no more connection with the work of art 
than those pieces of driftwood that people used 
to take home from their summer vacations. '^^ 

Even champions of the show were not certain 
how to view the lack of "transformation" in these 
new forms of junk art. Some perceived willful an- 
tagonistic protests; many, in an attempt to cate- 
gorize this art, attached to it the then-ubiquitous 
label, Neo-Dada.-" Indeed, in visually repudiating 
previously held conceptions of what art was sup- 
posed to look like and aspire to, the work did per- 
petuate Dada's anarchic spirit; nevertheless, the la- 

The Aesthetics of funk 29 

bel clouded rather than illuminated the contem- 
porary artists' intentions. 

Ironically, it was precisely the lack of transfor- 
mation in the works exhibited at the lackson Gal- 
lery that proved to be a harbinger of the future. By 
tacitly asserting that the subject of the artwork 
could be identical with objects in the world, the 
assemblagists paved the way for the emergence of 
Pop Art, which simply replaced urban detritus 
with scavenged motifs from the mass media: 
"found objects" supplanted by "found images." 

A year and a half after the "New Media — New 
Forms" exhibition, The Museum of Modern Art 
mounted "The Art of Assemblage." Despite the ex- 
hibition's timely scheduling, the emphasis on his- 
torical rather than contemporary manifestations of 
assemblage revealed the curator's apathy toward 

the more revolutionary aspects of the new work. 
The exclusion of Kaprow, Oldenburg, and Dine, for 
example, made for a pallid, timorous contemporary 
section, one which looked too reminiscent of ear- 
lier Dada and Surrealist experiments. The exhibi- 
tion thus failed to galvanize much enthusiasm for 
or understanding of the innovative art forms. 

It hardly mattered. By the time the show opened, 
many of the artists who might have been included 
had moved well beyond assemblage. Both Dine and 
Oldenburg had begun making the replications of 
common objects that became known as Pop Art. 
And Kaprow had abandoned the juxtaposition of 
found objects for a new art of juxtaposed events, 
launching, in the process, a new performance art 
movement which captured the attention of some of 
the most inventive artists of his generation. 

Fig. 23. Mark di Suvero, Ladder Piece, 
1961-62. Wood, steel, painted wood, 75" high 
(190.5 cm). Collection of Philip Johnson; 
Promised Gift to The Museum of Modern 
Art, New York. 




1^ ^ 





Kaprow's mentor in venturing beyond the strictly 
visual arts was the composer John Cage."*^ In his 
class on experimental music composition at the 
New School for Social Research from 1958 to 1959, 
Cage expounded his theories about the viability of 
non-traditional sources of aesthetic material, and 
encouraged his students to experiment with the- 
ater events by assigning performance projects as 
part of the course. These weekly sessions were a 
seminal influence on Kaprow and others of his gen- 
eration. At a time when acceptable aesthetic forms 
in the visual arts seemed limited to modes of Ab- 
stract Expressionism, Cage provided one of the few 
alternative models to which young artists could 
turn. Enthusiasm for his theories was not restricted 
to painters and sculptors. The small class also in- 
cluded filmmakers, musicians, and poets. Kaprow, 
Jackson Mac Low, George Brecht, Al Hansen, and 
Dick Higgins were among the regular students and 
often brought artist friends such as George Segal, 
Larry Poons, and Jim Dine. Kaprow later said of the 
course: "We all felt something terrifically exciting 
was going on in that class. I just couldn't wait to 
get back there every week.""*-^ 

For Cage, the world itself was a work of art; he 
saw the aesthetic potential in the commonplace 
and accepted everyday noise as music. Making mu- 
sic was a means of revealing to people the beauty 
around them. The methods he chose were chance 
and indeterminacy. In Cage's 1952 composition 
4'33", the pianist David Tudor had come out on 
stage, lifted the lid of the keyboard, and sat at the 
piano, without playing, for the duration of the 
piece. The random sounds and unexpected visual 
activities that happened within the time span con- 
stituted the work of art. 

Cage's ambient sounds were like the found ob- 
jects in assemblage. But his embrace of chance 
took "found art" one step further. By removing all 
traces of personal control in the making of sounds 
he radically redefined the function and meaning of 
art. To him, writing music was "an affirmation of 
life — not an attempt to bring order out of chaos nor 

Opposite: Claes Oldenburg in his Happening Snapshots from 
the City, 1960 (see Fig. 34). 

to suggest improvements in creation, but simply a 
way of waking up to the very life we're living, 
which is so excellent once one gets one's mind and 
one's desires out of its way and lets it act of its own 
accord."'*'* Only Marcel Duchamp with his ready- 
mades had come so close to obliterating the dis- 
tinction between art and life. Yet Duchamp, in 
claiming the concept of the ready-made as his per- 
sonal invention, had not relinquished his role as 
creator, nor had he fundamentally violated the 
uniqueness of the art object. Cage's work did both. 

By the time Cage began teaching at the New 
School in 1958, he had been working as a composer 
for twenty-five years and was already considered a 
major force in the musical world. Pieces such as 
4'33" had played a key role in the musical com- 
munity in legitimizing chance procedures (aleatory 
music) and ambient or "concrete" sound. The com- 
posers Earle Brown, Christian Wolff, Morton Feld- 
man, and La Monte Young were particularly af- 
fected by Cage's theories. 

Not satisfied with limiting himself to music. 
Cage had turned to theater early in his career, ini- 
tially in "simultaneous" lectures — readings at 
which prerecorded tapes of his own voice played 
simultaneously with his live delivery. Shortly 
thereafter. Cage turned to a type of composition — 
exemplified by Water Music (1952) — in which the 
pianist pours water from pots, blows whistles un- 
der the water, uses a radio, and engages in various 
visual activities, such as playing with a pack of 
cards. Cage extended this interest in performance 
events while teaching during the summer of 1952 
at Black Mountain College, an influential experi- 
mental school in North Carolina.'*^ With sev- 
eral friends — Merce Cunningham, Rauschenberg, 
Tudor, and the poets M. C. Richards and Charles 
Olson — Cage organized an interdisciplinary perfor- 
mance consisting of music for piano and gram- 
ophone, poetry reading, dancing, lectures, films, 
and slides, all executed or exhibited by the per- 
formers independent of, but simultaneously with, 
one another.'*^ 

Although Cage himself did not continue these 
early forays into non-musical performance, he 


32 Happenings 

taught its fundamental principles in his New 
School class. It was here that he described Sur- 
realist and Dadaist soirees of the twenties and thir- 
ties. These theatrical events, with their capricious 
and dreamlike combinations of images and mate- 
rials, obliterated conventional meanings in order to 
yield new ones. Robert Motherwell's 1951 an- 
thology, Dada Painters and Poets, had already pre- 
sented information about these soirees to an Amer- 
ican audience. But it was not until Cage stimulated 
an interest in similar forms of theater that the book 
became a prized possession among artists. When 
isolated from their original political context, the 
Dadaist antics recorded in Motherwell's book lost 
their polemical edge and became additional models 
for an art of alogical juxtaposition. 

Cage also advocated the theories of the French 
avant-garde playwright Antonin Artaud. Even be- 
fore Artaud's book The Theater and Its Double ap- 
peared in English translation in 1958, it had already 
begun to exert a strong influence on American art- 
ists then beginning their own tentative perfor- 
mance activities. Artaud's radical prescriptions for 
theater — his pronouncements against narrative 
and his call for a primitive, ritualistic spectacle — 
provided a more emotional model than did Cage's. 
Artaud went further than most later Happening 
artists in proposing a "theater of cruelty," in which 
emotional involvement with the audience was 
achieved through an undercurrent of violence and 
suffering. But his admonition to circumvent tradi- 
tional forms of theater found welcome listeners 
among younger American artists. 

Kaprow, for one, was particularly affected by his 
experiences in Cage's class. His first experiment 
with an elaborate performance event occurred at a 
picnic for members of the Hansa Gallery at George 
Segal's farm in New Jersey several months before 
Kaprow showed his environmental piece at the 
Hansa Gallery in 1958 (p. 18). Structurally similar 
to Cage's 1952 Black Mountain performance, Kap- 
row's event called for members of the group to per- 
form simultaneous but unrelated tasks: jumping 
through the props Kaprow and Segal had made 
from lumber and plastic sheeting; sitting in 
chicken coops rattling noisemakers; collectively 
painting a picture. "^^ 

This rather chaotic and unfocused event led to a 
more considered and public statement in The An- 


ti:e Ri:i.3!rN OftLri'.y 


6l (;th AVE., I.'.Y.C. 


OCT. l(,f'^,7,6,9,10"8:50 p.r. 



Allan Kaprov/ - who 

The performance Is divided Into six 

spealca ond plays q 

parts, Eoch part contslns three 

r.iuslcnl instrument 

happenings which occur at once. The 

beginning end end of each v/111 be 

signalled by a bell. At the end of 

Rosalyn Montague - 

the perforiiance tv/o strokes of the 

who apeoka and moves 

bell vflll be heard. 

Shirley Prondorgaat - 

You have been given three cards. 

who novea and playo q 

Bo sooted as they instruct you. 

Musical instrument 

That Is, be sure to change your 

place for set three ond for set 


Lucas Sanaras - v/ho 

spoaks, plays a game 

Betv/een part one and port tv/o there 

and a nualcal instru- 

is a two minute interval. Remain 



Janot './oinborger - 

Between part ti'/o and part three 

v/ho noves and plays a 

there is a flTteen minute Interval. 

musical instrument 

You may move about I'reely. 

Between part three and part four 

Robert Whitman - v/ho 

there is a bvo minute Interval 

moves, speaks and 

v7hon you v/lli remain in your seats. 

plays a game 

Between part four and part five 

Sar. Francis, Red Grooms, 

there is a fifteen minute inter- 

Dick Hlggins, Lester 

val. You may move about. 

Johnson, Alfred Les- 

lie, Jay vaider, George 

Betv/een part five and part six' 

Segal, Robert Thompson 

there is a two minute interval. 

- each of whon points 

Remain seated. 

There will be no applause after 

each sot. You uay applaud after 

The visitors - who sit 

the sixth set if you wish, although 
there will be no "curtain coll". 

in various chairs 

The visitors aro please 

asked not to smoke at all in the loft. They 

are also asked not to le 

ave the building during the longer Intormis- 


Fig. 24. Program notes for Allan Kaprow's 18 Happenings in 
Six Parts at the Reuben Gallery, New York, 1959. Collection 
of Ellsworth Snyder. 

thologist, a literary journal published at Rutgers 
University where Kaprow taught art history. A 
1959 issue of the journal included an article by Kap- 
row, "The Demiurge," calling for the creation of an 
entirely new art. At the end, Kaprow appended a 
section entitled "Something to Take Place: A Hap- 
pening," in which he described a series of ordinary 
but disparate actions. ^*^ Although never realized as 
a performance, many of these elements found their 
way into Kaprow's 18 Happenings in Six Parts, pre- 
sented in the fall of 1959 for the opening of the 
Reuben Gallery (Fig. 24). For this ninety-minute 
piece, Kaprow divided the gallery into three sec- 
tions with translucent sheets of plastic (Fig. 25). 
The performers, who included Kaprow, Whitman, 
Sam Francis, Alfred Leslie, and Segal, executed 
simple activities such as bending forward and ex- 
tending their arms like wings, bouncing a ball, 
reading from placards, and playing records, as 
lights and slides went off and on in carefully pro- 
grammed sequences. ■*'^ 

This piece was the first of what generically be- 
came known — to everyone save their creators — as 

Happenings 33 

Fig. 25. Set for Allan Kaprow's 18 Happenings in Six Parts at the Reuben Gallery, New York, 1959. 

Happenings. '^0 Extolling the concept of "total art," 
Happenings implicitly challenged the traditional 
separation between media. Why should artists 
limit themselves to painting or sculpture? Why 
musicians and composers only to sound? The idea 
of extending painting into actual space and time 
attracted a group of experimentally minded 

younger artists — among them, Whitman, Olden- 
burg, Hansen, Dine, and Grooms — all of whom 
knew Kaprow and, through interlocking friend- 
ships, one another. 

What was especially critical to Kaprow was the 
Cagean notion of involving the audience, as in his 
instructions that viewers change rooms during the 


ox , ^ 

.« )NGA3HE5A;.^. 

" - NOTTHF^ 

Fig. 26. Allan Kaprow's 
environment Words at 
the Smolin Gallery, 
New York, 1962. Photo- 
graphs by Robert R. 

34 Happenings 

Fir. 27. Allan Kaprow's en- 
vironment Yard in the court- 
yard ot the Martha Jackson 
Gallery during "Environ- 
ments, Situations, Spaces," 
New York, 1961. Photograph 
by Robert R. McElroy. 

Fig. 28. Allan Kaprow's Fiappenmg The Courtyard at the 
Mills Hotel, New York, 1962. Photograph by Lawrence 

performance of 78 Happenings in Six Parts. This 
commitment to audience participation became of 
paramount importance in Kaprow's subsequent en- 
vironments. In Words (1962), viewers were encour- 
aged to write their own phrases on the constructed 
partitions; in Yard (1961), to walk on a pile of tires 
(Figs. 26, 27). As Kaprow's work developed, he came 
to view the involvement of the audience as an es- 
sential ingredient; eventually he would eliminate 
the separation between the viewer and the event 
altogether (p. 50). 

Audience involvement was never as crucial to 
other Happening artistS; their concern for viewer 
participation was manifested primarily by the 
forced proximity between audience and event. 
"Spectators" were crammed together in small 
spaces, often touching one another or brushing 
against the actors, who might be in front, above, or 
beneath them. This direct engagement of the 
viewer accounted for much of the impact of Hap- 

Kaprow, under the influence of Cage, initially de- 
veloped a detached and controlled approach to Hap- 
penings."'^ Less visually flamboyant than in the 
Happenings of other artists, his performers wore 
street clothes and executed deracinated com- 
monplace tasks without emotional inflection. The 
relative spareness of Kaprow's sets and the absence 

of excessive physical displays can be attributed par- 
tially to the influence of Cage and partially to that 
of a dance performance given by Paul Taylor at 
Rutgers University in 1958. The performance con- 
sisted of Taylor, alone on the stage, executing sin- 
gle-gesture movements: at the sound of a woman's 
voice announcing the time, Taylor made move- 
ments such as turning his head, raising his arm, 
crouching, or twisting. After each "action" he re- 
turned to a neutral position and waited for the next 
time signal, which occurred at ten-second inter- 
vals. ^^ A similar focus on carefully orchestrated, 
single gestures found its way into 18 Happenings in 
Six Parts. In later works Kaprow became more ab- 
sorbed in mythic and literary references. In Tree 
(1963), for example, a group of performers brandish- 
ing twigs advanced on a row of cars covered with 
hay — a reference to Birnam Wood in Macbeth; in 
The Courtyard (1962), a female figure suggested 
both Mother Nature and Aphrodite (Fig. 28). "^-^ 

Red Grooms' Happenings, in contrast to Kaprow's, 
represented the physically flamboyant and im- 
provisational side of Happenings. ^s Even before 
meeting Kaprow, Grooms had independently ven- 
tured into the performance arena with an event 
entitled Play Called Fire, staged at the Sun Gallery 
in Provincetown, Massachusetts, during the sum- 
mer of 1958. He had earlier seen photographs in 
Life magazine of the French Action Painter 
Mathieu theatrically executing a painting in front 
of television cameras. ^^ Inspired by these reports. 
Grooms had gone into the Provincetown gallery 
with various cans of paint and painted a canvas for 
twenty-five minutes before an incredulous public. 
This notion of extending the "action" aspect of 
Abstract Expressionism into performance had been 
attempted earlier by the Gutai group of avant-garde 
artists from Osaka, Japan, whose work had been 
reported in The New York Times in 1957. The 
Gutai group, like Grooms, followed Mathieu's ex- 
ample in taking as their starting point the Abstract 
Expressionist focus on the act of creation. They 
turned the activity of painting into a performance 
by executing, before a live audience, such acts as 
throwing balls of colored pigment against blank 
canvases, modeling mud by rolling in it, and 
stamping footprints on large sheets of unrolled 
white vinyl. 57 The Gutai group's widely heralded 

Happenings 35 

exhibition of paintings and documentary pho- 
tographs at the Martha Jackson Gallery in Sep- 
tember 1959 vindicated Grooms' earlier extension 
of Action Painting into theater. 

But prior to the Gutai show. Grooms had heard 
about Kaprow's picnic Happening at Segal's, an 
event he described as "having opened things up for 
me by giving me license to do dumb things.'"'*^ In 
the summer of 1959, he had also met Kaprow in 
Provincetown. Encouraged by Kaprow to pursue 
his theatrical interests. Grooms created his first 
non-narrative "play," The Walking Man (Fig. 29), 
that September. The set for this Happening, which 
retained the figurative and gestural character of his 
paintings, was assembled out of objects from the 
Provincetown dump — bedsprings, doors, tin cans, 
and other pieces of refuse. Grooms likened the re- 
sult to an acrobat's apparatus in the circus, with 
the performers improvising their actions according 
to the dictates and logic of the materials rather 
than the logic of a narrative. "^"^ 

Grooms' next Happenings, The Burning Building 
(December 1959) and The Magic Train Ride (Janu- 
ary 1960), presented at the Delancey Street Mu- 
seum and Reuben Gallery, respectively, captured 
even more the atmosphere of the circus and amuse- 
ment park (Figs. 30-32). Spoken references to Dick 
Tracy, Orphan Annie, Tootsie, and the Statue of 
Liberty reinforced the connection with popular 
culture. Lasting just over ten minutes, these Hap- 
penings resembled fast-action Surrealist plays, in 
which non-actors engaged in a series of collage-like 
vignettes. Working at a frantic pace. Grooms had 
conceived and performed his three major Happen- 
ings in less than five months. But he soon began to 

Fig. 29. Poster for Red Grooms' Happening The Walking Man 
at the Sun Gallery, Provincetown, Massachusetts, 1959. 

36 Happenin^'i 





Figs. 30a-e. Scenes from Red Grooms' Happening The Burn- 
ing Builchng at the Delancey Street Museum, New York, 
1959. The Firemen, Terry Barrell (left) and Jay Milder (right), 
do a clumsy dance (30a); the Pasty Man, Red Grooms, 
discovers the girl, Joan Herbst, in the Firemen's den, while 
the Soundman, Sylvia Small, reads a love poem (30b and 
30c); the Firemen then gorge themselves on turkey, while the 
Pasty Man hides (30d); the Pasty Man escapes by somersault- 
ing through the windows of The Burning Building (30e). 
Photographs by John Cohen (30a, 30d) and Max Baker (30b, 
30c, 30e). 

feel self-conscious about their lack of narrative 
continuity and his original fearlessness in assault- 
ing more established forms of theater faltered/'° In 
late 1960 Grooms went to Europe. The two years 
he spent there effectively removed him from active 
participation in Happenings and their aesthetic 
consequences. But the primitive energy and ani- 
malistic intensity of his events exerted an enor- 
mous impact on other early theater experiments, 
particularly those of Claes Oldenburg and Jim 

Dine and Oldenburg first ventured into Happen- 
ings during the showing of their environments The 
House and The Street at the Judson Gallery in Feb- 
ruary-March 1960 (Figs. 17-19). Stimulated by the 
theatrical events being staged by Kaprow and 
Grooms, Oldenburg organized a series of perfor- 
mances under the aegis of his invented dop- 
pelganger, Ray Gun. Called "Ray Gun Spex," the 
series presented Happenings by Oldenburg, Dine, 

Happenings 37 


Fig. 31. Backdrop for Red Grooms' Happening The Magic Train Rule at tlic Reuben Gallery, New York, 1960. 

Hansen, Kaprow, Whitman, and Dick Higgins/'' 
Happenings themselves had been known only a 
few months, and only Kaprow and Whitman had 
previously created any work within this new art 
form/'- As part of the series, Oldenburg and Dine 
printed money on the church stencil machine 
and — as if forecasting their later parodies on mer- 
chandising and commerce — distributed one mil- 
lion dollars to everyone buying a ticket to the per- 
formances. At intermission the audience could use 
this money to purchase the junk objects and debris 
which had been picked up off the street and were 
on display in the gallery lobby. 

Of the six participants in "Ray Gun Spex," 
Oldenburg and Dine came the closest to fulfilling 
the prophetic implications of the word "spex" — an 
abbreviation for spectacle which meant burlesque 
in Oldenburg's native Swedish." Oldenburg's Hap- 
pening used The Street as its set: Snapshots from 
the City consisted of thirty-two posed tableaux 
which were briefly illuminated by periodic flashes 

of light (Fig. 33]. Straining to see the piece under 
these conditions was a way of involving and, to 
some later critics, brutalizing the audience.^"* Only 
by peering through an open door could viewers 
catch sight of the characters amid the tumble and 
debris of The Street. Conceived as a "painting in 
the shape of theater," as the Judson Gallery press 
release termed it. Snapshots from the City dealt 
with many of the themes implied in Oldenburg's 
environment — the danger, misery, and deprivation 
that prevails on the fringes of society. Performers 
wore elaborate costumes and executed loosely 
scripted actions based on character stereotypes, 
which would emerge in Oldenburg's subsequent 
Happenings (Figs. 34—36)/''' 

Oldenburg's next Happening, Blackouts (De- 
cember 1960), combined dream images with pieces 
of daily life — a baby's rattle, a cart, roller skates. 
This growing reliance on concrete things to convey 
meaning would eventually lead Oldenburg to aban- 
don human figures in his sculpture and instead to 

38 Happenings 

Fig. 32. Red Grooms as the Pasty Man and Terry Barrell as the Conductor in Grooms' The 
Magic Train Ride at the Reuben Gallery, New York, 1960. Photograph by John Cohen. 

Opposite; Fig. 33. Pat Oldenburg (on ladder) and Tom 
Wesselmann (crouching below) in Claes Oldenburg's Hap- 
pening Fotodeatb at the Reuben Gallery, New York, 1961. 

40 Happenings 

Fig. 34. Claes Oldenburg in his Happening Snapshots 
from the City at the Judson Gallery, Judson Memorial 
Church, New York, 1960. Photograph by Martha 
Holmes, Time magazine. 

create objects which served as their surrogates. By 
1962, when Oldenburg presented his ten-part cycle 
of Happenings in the context of his environment 
The Store (p. 70), he could write: "Nothing is com- 
municated or represented except through its at- 
tachment to an object."'''^ As his Happenings 
evolved, the psychological torment conveyed by 
scenes such as those in Injun, I (Fig. 37) — where 
bodies lay in the midst of charred rubbish — was 
eventually replaced with images of greater sen- 
suality, optimism, and humor (Figs. 38, 39). 

Dine's Happening The Smiling Workman re- 
vealed the almost demonic obsession he brought to 
all his work during this period. Lasting slightly 
more than thirty seconds, it consisted of Dine, 
dressed in a paint-splattered smock, with his face 
painted red, his mouth black, rapidly scribbling "I 
love what I'm doing" in orange and blue paint on an 
empty canvas; he then drank from the jars of paint, 
drenched himself with what remained, and fin- 

Fig. 35. Clacs Oldenburg as the Prop Man wrapped in 
newspaper in a rehearsal of his Happening Store Days. II 
at the Ray Gun Mfg. Co., New York, 1962. Photograph by 
Robert R. McElroy. 

Fig. 36. Claes Oldenburg as the Prop Man and Pat Oldenburg as 
the Performer in Claes Oldenburg's Happening Store Days, II at 
the Ray Gun Mfg. Co., New York, 1962. Photograph by Robert R. 

ished by diving through the canvas (Fig. 40). As in 
his three other Happenings — The Vaudeville Show, 
Car Crash, and A Shining Bed, all performed at the 
Reuben Gallery in 1960 (Figs. 41, 42) — there w^as no 
elaborate script and Dine was the central per- 
former. With the exception of the lighthearted The 
Vaudeville Show, these works were like night- 
mares in which fear of an unknown, yet ever-pres- 
ent, danger took hold. 

Dine later repudiated his Happenings as imma- 
ture and too much like the acting out of his ob- 
sessive daily life.^'^ He felt the permanence of his 
paintings gave viewers time to absorb different lev- 
els of meaning; Happenings were too fleeting for 
this kind of reflective perception. Moreover, he re- 
sented the absence of critical standards. "Anyone 
could do anything and be liked," he later remarked. 
"The audiences were laughing at everything." "^^ 

Of the original Happening makers, Robert Whit- 
man was the artist most involved in creating a the- 

Happenings 41 

ater of abstract images. A student of Kaprow at 
Rutgers University, he had been the youngest 
member of the Hansa Gallery. The junk culture 
assemblages he showed there and later, at the 
Reuben Gallery (Figs. 43, 44), displayed a gen- 
tleness and quietude which would find expression 
in his Happenings, as would his essentially abstract 
approach. Whitman rejected character and nar- 
rative, preferring instead sequences and overlays of 
abstract pictorial images. In order to differentiate 
his intent from that of his colleagues, he disavowed 
the word "Happening," calling his works "theater 
pieces." Whitman's first such efforts, among them 
E.G. and Duet for a Small Smell, his contribution 
to "Ray Gun Spex," were visually informed by 
a found-object aesthetic (Figs. 45, 46). In later 
pieces — The American Moon, Mouth, and Flower — 
he turned to delicate materials like fabric and paper 
to orchestrate poetic, dreamlike sequences of non- 
narrative imagery (Figs. 47-50). In contrast to the 

Fig. 37. Lucas Samaras (left) and Clacs Oldenburg m Oldenburg's Happening Injun, I at the Ray Gun Mfg. Co., New York, 
1962. Photographs by Robert R. McElroy. 

42 Happenings 

PPFr^ ' ■^^Tf 


Fig. .-iS. Oyvind Fahlstrom (left), Milct Andrcjcvic (center), 
and Mariela Maza (right) in Claes Oldenburg's Happening 
Nekropolis. I at the Ray Gun Mfg. Co., New York, 1962. 
Photograph by Robert R. McElroy. 

Fig. 39. Lucas Samaras (left), Pat Oldenburg (center), and 
Claes Oldenburg (right) in Claes Oldenburg's Happening 
Sports at the Green Gallery, New York, 1962. Photograph by 
Judy B. Ross. 

meticulous precision of Kaprow's early pieces and 
the raw physicality of the other Happening artists, 
these later events were sparse, exuding an ethereal 
quality — "real matter being insubstantial," as 
Segal later described them/'^ 

During the years 1958-64, performance events 
were as vital to the downtown art community as 
painting and sculpture. Although they absorbed the 
attention of a relatively small number of artists, 
they produced an atmosphere of frenetic energy 
and adventure. Yet the inherent transience of Hap- 
penings has made them seem, in retrospect, less 
significant than more permanent art forms. Since 
our understanding of them is based solely on docu- 
mentation, it is difficult to envision the intensely 
charged climate in which they took place. ^" At the 
time, however. Happenings were perceived as a dra- 
matic redefinition of the possibilities of art, as 
an overlapping and interpenetration of art forms 
resulting in a strikingly innovative form of 

However varied the approaches of individual 
Happening makers, their performances had a com- 
mon denominator: they amalgamated the junk ma- 
terials of assemblage, the gestural vocabulary of 
Abstract Expressionism, and Cage's theories of 
non-narrative performance. Since Kaprow, Olden- 
burg, and Dine had already merged Abstract Ex- 
pressionism with found objects in their junk en- 
vironments, the visual connection between 
Happenings and these environments was obviously 


Fig. 40. Jim Dine in his Happening The Smiling Workman at 
the Judson Gallery, Judson Memorial Church, New York, 
1960. Photograph by Martha Holmes, Time magazine. 

Happenings 43 

Fig. 41. Jim Dine and Judy 
Tersch in Dine's Happening 
Car Crash at the Reuben Gal- 
lery, New York, 1960. Photograph 
by Robert R. McElroy. 

close. Happenings displayed a similar crudeness, 
disorder, and textural richness. The costumes and 
sets in Happenings were constructed out of the 
same kind of urban, cast-off materials as those em- 
ployed in environments — newspapers, junk, string, 
rags, cardboard, wood crates, and the like. Indeed, 
Oldenburg and Dine had used their environments 
The Street and The House as the sets for their first 
Happenings; and Grooms had exhibited the set 
from his Happening The Magic Train Ride at his 
1960 Reuben Gallery show (Fig. 31). What Happen- 
ings added to the messy, object-oriented tableaux 
were actions, sounds, light, and movement. Hap- 
penings were like junk assemblages come to life — 
"the passive and active sides of a single coin," as 
Kaprow once described them.^' Their impetus was 
the same: Oldenburg remarked that Happenings 
were intended (as were junk assemblages) to coun- 
ter "the notion of a work of art as something out- 
side of experience, something that is terribly pre- 
cious." ^^ 

Just as the contiguous elements in assemblage 
were juxtaposed without narrative logic, the se- 
quential actions in Happenings conveyed no sense 
of cause and effect. Happenings dispensed with a 
linear story line; like a series of anecdotes, they 
presented compartmentalized events in which 
each action was self-contained — no plots or stories, 
no character portrayals, no sense of time and 

Fig. 42. Jim Dine in his Happening The Vaudeville Show at 
the Reuben Gallery, New York, 1960. Photograph by Robert 
R. McElroy. 

Fig. 43. Robert Whitman, Untitled, 1958. Mixed media con- 
struction, 72 X 72 X 72" (182.9 x 182.9 x 182.9 cm). In- 
stalled at the Hansa Gallery, New York, 1959. 

44 Happenings 

Fig. 44. Installation views of Robert Whitman's one-artist 
exhibition at the Reuben Gallery, New York, 1959. 

place. ''^ Performers simply enacted dreamlike vi- 
gnettes whose content and sequence eluded logical 
comprehension. Instead of the character-context 
matrices of traditional theater, the focus in Hap- 
penings was on the props, costumes, and sets. 
Where words were used they functioned as sounds, 
independent of meaning. The primary concern was 
the creation of vivid and arresting "pictures" whose 
potential for superimposed and constantly chang- 
ing imagery offered a degree of invention far greater 
than that in more static art forms. 

Less obvious than the connection between Hap- 
penings and junk environments was that between 
Happenings and Action Painting. Yet Kaprow 
stressed repeatedly that Happenings had grown out 
of the demands for flux and process in advanced 
American art; that essentially they were Action 
Paintings with objects.^"* He was not alone in ac- 
knowledging this inheritance. "Sometimes," 
Oldenburg said, "I feel that what I'm doing with 
living material, with people and objects and situa- 
tions is something like what they (de K[ooning] and 
P[ollock]) did with paint. I just have substituted 
material." ^^ 

In retrospect, the action component of Happen- 
ings was indeed a logical outcome of the "event" 
orientation of Abstract Expressionism. Grooms, for 
example, later credited the impetus for his Happen- 
ings to the atmosphere created by the words "Ac- 
tion Painting."^''' In the hands of artists like Pollock 
and de Kooning, the gestural tactics of Abstract 
Expressionism had been transformed into some- 
thing resembling actual performance. Pollock 
could almost be described as "dancing" on top of 
his canvas in the act of painting; the painting itself, 
as Harold Rosenberg argued, was merely the record 
of this movement.''^ Happening artists took the 
next step by opening the curtain on the event, mov- 
ing it from behind the scenes to center stage. This 
shift from private to public art-making affected the 
art-spectator relationship by making the spectator, 
at the very least, a tacit participant in the creative 
act. Moreover, by presenting actual gestures and 
movements. Happening artists "literalized" the ac- 
tion in de Kooning's and Pollock's paintings. This 
drive toward literalism ran through the period. It 
motivated the assemblagists' use of tangible ob- 
jects as it later would the Pop artists' and Mini- 
malists' use of concrete images and unambiguous 

The absence of plot and climax in Happenings 
provided a further analogue to Abstract Expres- 
sionist painting, in this case to its non-hierarchical 
character. The consequent difficulty of determin- 
ing when a Happening was over recalls Rosenberg's 
maxim that an Action Painting was never fully 
complete but was forever in a state of becoming. 
Similarly analogous was the quality of spontaneity 
in both art forms. Because of financial restrictions 
and the legacy of Cage's attitude toward chance and 

Happenings 45 

Fig. 45. Jim Dine dressed as the Ball Man in a rehearsal of Robert Whitman's theater piece E.G. at the Reuben 
Gallery, New York, 1960. Photograph by Robert R. McElroy. 

Fig. 46. Final scene of Robert Whitman's theater piece E.G. at the Reuben Gallery, New York, 1960. Photograph by 
Robert R. McElroy. 

46 Happenings 

Fig. 47. Robert Whitman, standing next to the set of his 
theater piece The American Moon (undej construction) at the 
Reuben Gallery, New York, 1960. Photograph by Robert R. 

indeterminacy, most Happenings were presented 
with only sketchy instructions and few rehear- 
sals.^*^ (Kaprow's early, more orchestrated ones were 

However, unlike Abstract Expressionist paint- 
ings. Happenings — impermanent and not replica- 
ble — were inherently uncommercial. They could 
be commissioned but not bought or sold; and they 
could not be collected. For Kaprow, this result was 
deliberate, an anti-capitalist effort to prevent the 
stockpiling of art by the rich.^^ Circumventing the 
marketplace was also a means of avoiding the pit- 
falls of success — a trap into which the first-genera- 
tion Abstract Expressionists appeared to have 
fallen. According to Kaprow, the creative energy of 
vanguard artists in the 1950s had been dissipated 
by public acclaim and financial windfalls. **° Even in 
his capacity as unofficial director of the Judson 
Gallery in 1960-61, he had cautioned against me- 
dia attention and publicity seeking.^' Only those 
on the fringes of society, he implied, could legit- 
imately be creative. This view of the artist as an 
outcast, unappreciated in his own time, was com- 
monly held by members of the Abstract Expres- 
sionist generation. For Kaprow, however, these very 
Abstract Expressionists had become insiders 
through their success. *^2. 

But even Kaprow sensed the public's inevitable 
cooption of this challenging art form. Operating 

Fig. 48. Lucas Samaras in 
Robert Whitman's theater piece 
The American Moon at the 
Reuben Gallery, New York, 
1960. Photograph by Robert R. 

Happenings 47 

outside the marketplace did not, in the end, guar- 
antee artists their role as outsiders,- the absence of a 
tradable commodity was no defense against public 
popularity and approval. Happenings rapidly ac- 
quired the veneer of chic. By 1964 there were signs 
that the seemingly unassimilable was becoming 
welcome. Museums had begun to commission per- 
formances in 1962 — Kaprow at the Walker Art Cen- 
ter, Minneapolis, Oldenburg at the Dallas Museum 
for Contemporary Art. By that time, Oldenburg la- 
mented, "the whole thing had become totally com- 

Perhaps because of this, the era of Happenings 
was relatively short-lived. Of the original Happen- 
ing artists, only Whitman remained committed to 
large-scale theatrical productions. Kaprow con- 
tinued producing Happenings but their form 
shifted in the middle sixties from the elaborate sets 
and carefully rehearsed scripts of his earlier works 
to a sparser kind of event enacted without an au- 
dience (p. 50). By 1960 Grooms had left for Europe 
and had ceased making Happenings; Dine virtually 
stopped then as well. Oldenburg remained with the 
genre only until 1966. Yet however brief their 
prime. Happenings had brought a sense of vitality 
to the art community that it was not quick to for- 
get. In the process they had precipitated new at- 
titudes about the possibilities of art-making which 
would radically redefine the direction of art. 

Fig. 4y. chippie McClellan in a rehearsal of Robert Whit- 
man's theater piece Mouth at the Reuben Gallery, New York, 
1961. Photograph by Robert R. McElroy. 

Fig. 50. Chippie McClellan 
and ludy Tersch in a rehearsal 
of Robert Whitman's theater 
piece Mouth at the Reuben 
Gallery, New York, 1961. 
Photograph by Robert R. 


During the period Happenings were being formu- 
lated in New York, a parallel mode of performance 
art, later identified with the Fluxus group, was 
emerging from Cage's class at the New School. 
These works differed from Happenings in their re- 
jection of the physicality and gestural vocabulary 
of Abstract Expressionism, favoring instead a con- 
ceptual rigor and attentiveness to "insignificant" 
phenomena. In place of visually engaging costumes 
and sets, these Events (so-called to distinguish 
them from Happenings) were enacted in unadorned 
settings by performers wearing ordinary street 
clothes. They usually consisted of a unitary ges- 
ture, such as a light going on and off, or a line of 
performers shuffling across the floor. Typically, a 
deadpan wit pervaded the disciplined enactment of 
these isolated, quotidian actions. In Alison 
Knowles' Proposition (1962), performers came out 
to the performance area, made a salad, and exited; 
Emmett Williams' Voice Piece for La Monte Young 
(1963) instructed the performer to ask whether La 
Monte Young was in the audience and then leave. 
Certain members of Cage's class created slightly 
more complex performance scripts based on the 
principle of chance advocated by Cage. The compo- 
nent words of Jackson Mac Low's poem Peaks and 
Lamas (1959) were determined by chance opera- 
tions. For its performance, first enacted in Cage's 
class, Mac Low employed other chance procedures 
to determine when performers were to utter their 
lines and at what pitch and volume level. Since the 
spoken entrances of each performer varied, the 
effect resembled an atonal musical composition 
with words. Similarly, in George Brecht's Motor Ve- 
hicle Sundown (1960), each performer was given a 
set of differently shuffled instruction cards. At 
dusk, they were to go to their cars and execute such 
directions as turning headlights or radios on and 
off, honking horns, rolling windows up or down, 
operating windshield wipers, and switching on the 
glove compartment light. The time allotted for 
each activity having been determined by chance, 
the performance was over when all the participants 

Opposite: George Brecht performing his Three Aqueous 
Events (see Fig. 59). 

had finished their assignments and turned off the 
car motors. While somewhat reminiscent of iS 
Happenings in Six Parts, such scrupulously anno- 
tated performances differed markedly from the im- 
provisatory permissiveness of most Happenings. 

Out of Cage's class had also come overt chal- 
lenges to the definition of what constituted artistic 
authorship. In 4'33", Cage had subverted his own 
subjective expression by forcing the audience to 
take an active role (p. 31). He had provided the com- 
position's structure, but it was the audience, not 
he, who provided the sounds. Brecht, who believed 
that music was not merely what one heard or lis- 
tened to, but was everything that happened, ex- 
tended Cage's expansive attitude toward musical 
material to include visual phenomena.^'* In Time- 
Table (1961), Brecht instructed the performers to go 
to a train station and choose a number from the 
timetable. This number determined the duration of 
the piece — 3:25, for example, translated into three 
minutes and twenty-five seconds. He considered 
everything that occurred in the train station within 
this designated time period to be part of the com- 

Cage's insistence that the audience provide the 
"music" in 4'33" had conflated the role of the au- 
dience and performer. It had not, however, entirely 
obliterated the distinction between those who gen- 
erated sounds and those who listened to them. The 
final break was only achieved by certain members 
of Cage's class, who simply eliminated the concept 
of "audience." Audience and performers became 
synonymous. In Dick Higgins' Winter Carol (1959), 
the performers were instructed to determine the 
composition's duration, then go outdoors for the 
specified amount of time and listen to the falling 

A Winter C 








of people may per 




They do 


by agreeing in ad 


on a 

durat ion 



composition, then by 


g out 

to listen in 



ing snow. 

New York 

Fig. 51. Dick Higgins, 1959. 


50 Fluxus 

Fig. 52. Nam June Paik performing his Zen for Head in 
Wiesbaden, West Germany, 1962. 

snow (Fig. 51). No one was invited to "watch/' a 
format drastically different from that of most Hap- 
penings, in which audiences were participatory if 
only by virtue of their cramped proximity to the 

The only Happening artist to dispense with the 
audience was Kaprow, whose later performance 
works consisted of a number of tasks executed at 
different times and in different parts of a given city. 
As a result, Kaprow could allow his performers 
control over the location, time, and manner of ex- 
ecution of these assigned tasks. In Fluids (1967), 
twenty hollow, rectangular ice blocks were built by 
an unspecified number of participants around the 
city during a three-day period. Once built, the 
blocks were left, unattended, to melt. Unlike Kap- 
row's earlier events, the only "audience" to observe 
these enactments was that which serendipitously 
took notice of the activity, unaware that they were 
viewing an art performance. That such events took 
place in the midst of ordinary life, rather than in a 
designated performance area, confounded the dis- 

tinction between art and life beyond recog- 

The often numerous components of Kaprow's 
later Happenings differed from the single-action 
character of Fluxus Events. In Robert Watts' Casual 
Event (1962), for example, one performer drove his 
car to a filling station, inflated the right front tire 
until it blew out, then changed the tire and drove 

The mischievous subversion of conventional aes- 
thetics undertaken by these Cage-inspired artists 
was reminiscent of Dadaist antics, as in the perfor- 
mances of the Rumanian Dadaist, Tristan Tzara. In 
one, the word "roar" was repeated 147 times fol- 
lowed by the non sequitur "Who still considers 
himself very charming."*^'' Self-consciously radical, 
the latter-day heirs of Dada sought to provoke and 
outrage in order to jolt viewers out of self-satisfied 
assumptions about art. Their subversive attack on 
normative aesthetic taste carried an almost moral- 
istic sense of mission: "The purpose of this series is 
not entertainment" read the program notes for a 
series of concerts given in 1960-61.**'' 

Fig. 53. George Brecht, Suitcase, 1959. Mixed media 
assemblage, 7% x 16'/k x lliyi6"(20 x 41 x 30 cm) 
Collection of Reinhard Onnasch. 

Fluxus 51 

Fig. 54. George Brecht, Iced Dice, a realization of his word 
event "chair," m "Environments, Situations, Spaces" at the 
Martha Jackson Gallery, New York, 1961. 

Fig. 55. George Brecht, Chair Event, c. I960; reconstructed 
1969. Painted wood chair, painted cane, and an orange, 
35'/8 X 19 X 38" (89.2 x 48.3 x 96.5 cm). Collection of 
Reinhard Onnasch. 

Some of the discomfort caused by these events 
derived from their intimations of violence. When 
Yoko Ono sat passively onstage while members of 
the audience came forv^ard and cut off pieces of her 
clothing until she was nearly naked, the effect was 
unnerving. Or when Nam June Paik came up to 
John Cage in a performance and proceeded to slash 
Cage's shirt, chop off his necktie, and pour a bottle 
of shampoo over his head before running from the 
room, the resultant laughter was of the nervous 
kind elicited by fear. This same commingling of 
humor and implicit violence can be seen in Paik's 
Zen for Head (Fig. 52), where the horror of "blood" 
dripping from his necktie plays against the pun of 
the title. 

Despite the differences between these more con- 
ceptually based artists and those involved with 
Happenings and junk assemblages, the art world 
vanguard was sufficiently small in the years 
1958-64 that initially the distinction between 

them was not rigidly drawn. Brecht, in particular, 
floated easily between these two worlds. A member 
of Cage's class, he was also a regular exhibitor at 
the Reuben Gallery. His 1959 show there featured a 
group of found-object sculptures which viewers 
could manipulate or change; Suitcase (Fig. 53), 
filled with discrete objects that could be taken out 
and rearranged at will, was typical. It was, in other 
words, an object on its way to becoming an Event, a 
characteristic underscored by the exhibition's title, 
"Towards Events." **'' 

Brecht's union of sculpture and Event received a 
more radical articulation in Martha Jackson's 1961 
exhibition "Environments, Situations, Spaces," in 
which Dine, Whitman, Kaprow, Oldenburg, and 
Walter Gaudnek participated. Kaprow created his 
environment Yard (Fig. 27) for the show. Dine a 
found-object environment of fabric, filled with 
hanging pots (Fig. 86), and Oldenburg his plaster 
reliefs of everyday commodities (Fig. 81). Brecht 

52 Fluxus 

Fig. 56. George Brecht, Clothes Tree, c. 1963; originally installed in Brecht's New York loft; reconstructed 1969. 
Painted clothes tree with three hats, one coat, and two umbrellas, 72 x 27 x 29'/2" (182.9 x 68.6 x 74.9 cm). 
Collection of Reinhard Onnasch. 

Fluxus 53 

submitted two performance scores, one of which 
consisted simply of the word "chair." The "reaUza- 
tion" of this score was a white wicker rocking chair 
which sat on the floor of the gallery for the dura- 
tion of the exhibition (Fig. 54). It differed from the 
found objects in other artists' work in that it was 
functional; it could be sat upon and moved around. 
By occupying the border between art and utility, it 
confounded aesthetic categories. Hereafter most of 
Brecht's sculptures were realizations of perfor- 
mance scores (Figs. 55, 56). Because their imple- 
mentation depended on available materials and in- 
dividual interpretation, the same piece could 
potentially look quite different each time it was 

In addition to utility, the absence of painterly 
gesture on Brecht's objects contrasted markedly 
with the found objects and figurative work of his 
colleagues at the Reuben Gallery. Sink (1963), for 
example, was just an ordinary white porcelain 
sink, on which rested toothbrushes, soap, and a 
glass. Because of its seemingly dispassionate pre- 
sentation of mundane, commercial objects, such 
work would initially be categorized as Pop Art. Yet 
the classification was inadequate. Brecht's reluc- 
tance to tamper with his component materials and 
his willingness to subvert his own control made 
his work more analogous to the ambient sound 
compositions of John Cage. 

The activities of Brecht and other members of 
Cage's class were given added momentum by the 
arrival from San Francisco of La Monte Young in 
the fall of 1960. Young had been introduced to 
Cage's ideas while still a graduate student at the 
University of California, Berkeley, through Cage's 
published lectures and a summer workshop Young 
had attended in Darmstadt, West Germany, in 
1959.^** During the summer of 1960, Young had cre- 
ated a series of "musical compositions" which dis- 
played his debt to Cage's theories regarding chance 
and audience involvement. Composition 1960 #3 
was typical: 

Announce to the audience when the piece will 
begin and end if there is a limit or duration. It 
may be of any duration. 

Then announce that everyone may do what- 
ever he wishes for the duration of the composi- 

Like Brecht, Young extended Cage's definition of 
music to include that which is only seen. Com- 
position 1960 #5 involved releasing a handful of 
butterflies into the air; Composition 1960 #10 di- 
rects the performer to draw a straight line and fol- 
low it. Like Cage's emulation of the anecdotal style 
of Zen stories, these compositions were short and 
often paradoxical (Fig. 57). 

Upon Young's arrival in New York in September 
1960, his apartment became a meeting place for 
musicians, visual artists, dancers, and poets. 
Young's commitment to what he later called "the 
theater of the single event"*^^ spurred other artists 
to contribute to this new genre. James Waring, the 
dancer with whom many of those later connected 
with the Judson Dance Theater worked, addressed 
the poem Haircut (1960) to Young: "Use a stop 
watch. Watch and time three minutes. During that 
time say 'haircut' as [sic] least, or as many times as 
you like." 90 

During this period, Brecht, quite independent of 
Young, had likewise shifted from complex or- 
chestrations involving multiple performers to sin- 
gle-gesture actions. Typically restricted to short 
phrases or single words, Brecht's Events were more 
like Zen Buddhist koans than precise performance 
instructions (Fig. 58). String Quartet consists of the 
words "shaking hands"; Three Aqueous Events 
reads "ice/water/steam"; Piano Piece (1962) reads 
"vase of flowers on[to] a piano." Since Brecht be- 
lieved that the task of the artist was simply to 
stimulate the viewer's imagination or perception, 
these cryptic phrases were to him equally valid as 
performance directives, physical entities, or states 
of mind; although they could be enacted, simply 
reading and thinking about them was sufficient to 
constitute realization (Fig. 59). Following Brecht, a 
number of other artists were encouraged to create 
similarly aphoristic Event-poems: Robert Watts' 
Bean on a plate ( 1962) and / opened a book and the 
page was not there (1962) (Fig. 60); or Yoko Ono's 
Tape Piece 1 (1963) — "take the sound of the stone 
aging" — and her Sun Piece (1962) — "watch the sun 
until it becomes square." 

In the fall of 1960 Young became involved in sev- 
eral activities that led to what was later described 
as Fluxus. One was a series of concerts that he 
organized at Yoko Ono's loft at 112 Chambers 

54 Fluxiis 

Composition 1960 #2 

Build a fire in front of the audience. Preferably, use wood al- 
thougfi other combustibles maybe used as necessary for starting 
the fire or controlling the kind of smoke. The fire may be of 
any size, but it should not be the kind which is associated 
with another object, such as a candle or a cigarette lighter. 
The lights may be turned out. 

After the fire is burning, the builder(5) may sit by and watch 
it for the duration of the composition; however, he(they) should 
not sit between the fire and the audience in order that its mem- 
bers will be able to see and enjoy the fire. 
The composition may be of any duration. 

In the event that the performance is broadcast, the microphone 
may be brought up close to the fire. 

5- 5- 60 

Piano Piece for Terry Riley #1 

Push the piano up to a wall and 
put the flat side flush against it. 
Thefi continue pushing into the 
wall. Push as hard as you can. 
If the piano goes through the wall, 
keep pushing in the same direction 
regardless of new obstacles and 
continue to push as hard as you 
can whether the piano is stopped 
against an obstacle or moving. 
The piece is over when you are 
too exhausted to push any longer. 

2:10 A.M. 
November 8, 1960 

Composition 1960 ^3 

Announce to the audience when the piece will begin and end 
if there is a limit on duration. It may be of any duration. 
Then announce that everyone may do whatever he wishes for 
the duration of the composition. ^ , 

5- 14 ■ 60 

Composition 1960 r^4 

Announce to the audience that the lights will be turned off for 
the duration of the composition (it may be any length) and tell 
them when the composition witi begin and end. 

Turn off all the lights for the announced duration. 
When the lights are turned back on, the announcer may tell the 
audience that their activities have been the composition, al- 
though this is not at all necessary. t o ^^ 

b ■ J ■ oO 

Composition 1960 ^6 

The performers (any number) sit on the stage 
watching and listening to the audience in the 
same way the audience usually looks at and 
listens to performers. If in an auditorium, the 
performers should be seated in rows on chairs 
or benches; but if in a bar, for instance, the 
performers might have tables on stage and be 
drinking as is the audience. 

Optional: A poster in the vicinity of the stage 
reading: COMPOSITION 1960 «*6 
La Monte Young 

Composition 1960 -r- 5 

Turn a butterfly (or any number of butterflies) loose in the per- 
formance area. 

When the composition is over, be sure to allow Che .butterfly 
to fly away outside. 

The composition may be any length but if an unlimited amount 
of time is available, the doors and windows may be opened 
before the butterfly is turned loose and the composition may be 
considered finished when the butterfly flies away. 


and tickets, sold at stairways 
leading to stage from audience, 
admitting members of the audience 
who wish to join the performers on 
stage and watch the remainder of 
the audience. 

A performance may be of any duration. 

6 ■ 8 ■ 60 

July 2, 1960 

Piano Piece for David Tudor =1 

Bring a bale of hay and a bucket 
of water onto the stage for the 
piano to eat and drink. The 
performer may then feed the piano 
or leave it to eat by itself. If the 
the former, the piece is over after 
the piano has been fed. If the 
latter, it is over after the piano 
eats or decides not to. 

Cow,po„t., \Uo *7 

•ket^elj ^oya Uk, Ti«, 

October 1960 

Composition 1960 #10 
to Bob Morris 

Piano Piece for David Tudor —2 

Open the keyboard cover without 
making, from the operation, any 
sound that is audible to you. 
Try as many times as you like. 
The piece is over either when 
you succeed or when you decide 
to stop trying. It is not 
necessary to explain to the 
audience. Simply do what you 
do and, when the piece is over, 
indicate it in a customary way. 

October 1960 

Draw a straight line 
and follow it. 

October 1960 

Composition 1960 #13 
to Richard Huelsenbeck 

The performer should 
prepare any composition 
and then perform it as 
well as he can. 

November 9, 1960 

Piano Piece for David Tudor 

most of them 

were very old grasshoppers 

November 14, 1960 

Composition 1960 -^ 15 
to Richard hluelsenbeck 

This piece is little whirlpools 
out in the middle of the ocean. 

9:05 A.M. 
December 25, 1960 

Fig. 57. La Monte Young, compositions, originally printed in An Anthology, 1962. 

Fluxus 55 

• nearby 



a vase of flowers 

on (to) a piano 






• at least one egg 




a white sink 
black soap 




When the telephone rings, it is 

allowed to continue ringing, until it stops. 


When the telephone rings, the. receiver 

is lifted, then replaced. 


When the telephone rings, it is answered. 

Pefiofffarce no'.e. Eacli event 
csmptises ai! o;cufferees 












BnM. 19k2 

Fig. 58. George Brecht, Event scores. 











• shaking hands 

Street. Included in the series were a group of 
Young's colleagues, also recently arrived from San 
Francisco — sculptors Walter De Maria and Robert 
Morris, dancer Simone Forti'^' — as well as artists 
Young had met in New York — musicians Joseph 
Byrd and Richard Maxfield, dancer Robert Dunn, 
poet Jackson Mac Low. Field from January to June 
1961, the Chambers Street series, as it was infor- 
mally dubbed, offered the first collective forum for 
the vanguard sensibilities that emerged as Fluxus. 
Several months after the initial Chambers Street 
concert, George Maciunas, a Lithuanian emigre 
who had opened the AG Gallery on Madison Ave- 
nue, began to sponsor a series of similar events. '^- 
Earlier that fall (1960), Maciunas had enrolled in 
the continuation of Cage's class at the New School, 

taught by Richard Maxfield, the composer of elec- 
tronic music. Maciunas' introduction to Young, 
also enrolled, and to the kind of work produced in 
the class encouraged him to radicalize the presen- 
tations at his gallery. It was here, for example, that 
De Maria first exhibited his Minimalist plywood 
sculpture (p. 99) and where Mac Low's Nuclei for 
Simone Forti (1961) was first performed, a sequence 
of chance-derived nouns and verbs to be im- 
provised upon by the performer. 

In late 1960, Young had been asked to compile for 
the poetry magazine Beatitude East a special issue 
devoted to contemporary performance and literary 
work. When the magazine's regular editor aban- 
doned the project and moved to California, leaving 
Young without any means of financing the publica- 

56 Fluxiis 

tion, Maciunas offered to design and print the col- 
lection of material in the back room of his gallery. 
Owing to financial complications, the publication, 
ultimately called An Anthology, was not bound 
and distributed until 1963 (Fig. 62). However, even 
its compilation proved seminal to the development 
of Fluxus by bringing together artists who would 
form the core of American Fluxus and by introduc- 
ing Maciunas to the idea of publishing artists' 

By the time An Anthology was released, Ma- 
ciunas had been in Europe more than a year and 
had initiated a flurry of concerts under the general 
title of "Fluxus," the first of which took place in 
September 1962 in Wiesbaden, West Germany.^-* 
This concert marked the tenuous cohesion of a 
group of artists who would join together in publish- 
ing and performance ventures under the name of 
Fluxus. With Japanese and European artists promi- 
nent among them, the organization had a decidedly 
international tenor. 

It was not until the spring of 1964, following 
Maciunas' return from Europe, that the first Amer- 
ican Fluxus concert took place in New York. While 

Maciunas was abroad, Brecht and Watts had orga- 
nized a series of events in May 1963 known as the 
Yam Festival; though it involved many of the 
Fluxus participants, it was not an official Fluxus 
Event. '^'^ The same was true of Charlotte Moor- 
man's Festival of the Avant Garde. Presented an- 
nually beginning in 1963, the festival provided an 
important opportunity for vanguard composer-art- 
ists — Joseph Byrd, Philip Corner, Richard Maxfield, 
and La Monte Young — to be included in programs 
with such musical luminaries as Earle Brown, John 
Herbert McDowell, and Morton Feldman. Moor- 
man's criteria for what qualified as music were 
broad. She was, after all, part of an art community 
that had considered the sound of vegetables being 
chopped (in Knowles' Proposition] or the a cappella 
recitation of a concrete poem by Emmett Williams 
to be valid musical expressions. It was in this all- 
inclusive spirit of music-making that Yoko Ono 
had premiered her composition A Piece for Straw- 
berries and Violin at the Carnegie Recital Hall in 
1961 (Fig. 61), and the New York Audio-Visual 
group (founded by Higgins and Al Hansen) met 
every Sunday morning to perform experimentally 








Simrn., 1961 

Fig. 59. George Brecht performing his Three Aqueous Events 
included in "Happenings, Events, and Advanced Musics," 
organized by Al Hansen at Douglass College, Rutgers Univer- 
sity, New Brunswick, Nev^ Jersey, 1963. Photograph by Peter 

mailbox event 

open mailbox 

close eyes 

remove letter of choice 

tear up letter 

open eyes 

Fig. 60. Robert Watts, compositions. 

Fluxus 57 

Look into an ear with flashlight 


Bean on a plate 

I opened my key case to find my apartment key 
and a moth flew out 

I opened a book 

and the page was not there 

Adopt a position on rain 


Fig. 61. Yoko Ono with the poster for her concert A Grapefruit in the World of Park at the Carnegie Recital Hall, 
New York, 1961. Photograph by George Maciunas. 

58 Fiuxus 


chance onerations 






Fluxus 59 

notated music on everyday objects such as motor- 
cycles or bouncing balls. ^^ 

Paradoxically, it was Maciunas' return to the 
United States and his promotion of concert pro- 
grams and published editions of artists' work that 
established Fluxus as an organization and simul- 
taneously precipitated the departure of certain art- 
ists who previously had been colleagues. Most of 
those who left did so out of a distaste for Maciunas' 
aesthetic orientation. Of the San Francisco artists 
who had participated in Young's Chambers Street 
series and An Anthology, none were associated 
with Fluxus as an organization; Morris, who had 
removed his contribution to An Anthology prior to 
its binding (p. 100), wrote to Maciunas in 1964 that 
he wanted nothing more to do with Fluxus. ^^ Kap- 
row, for his part, became angered by what he felt 
was the Fluxus artists' aesthetic irresponsibility 
and their condescending attitude. ^^ 

Splits began to occur even among those artists 
who had participated in the original Fluxus con- 
certs in America — AY-O, Brecht, Anthony Cox, 
Fliggins, Knowles, Ono, Hansen, Joe Jones, Ben 
Patterson, Watts. Many resented Maciunas' stri- 
dently pro-Soviet politics and his dictatorial at- 
tempts to impose his aesthetic ideas. At Karlheinz 
Stockhausen's Originale concert, presented at the 
Carnegie Recital Hall in September 1964 under the 
auspices of Charlotte Moorman's 2nd Annual New 
York Avant Garde Festival, Maciunas and Henry 
Flynt, another Fluxus member, picketed the perfor- 
mance and distributed vitriolic manifestos outside 
the theater. They were upset by the stranglehold 
they felt Stockhausen exercised over modern music 
and by what they took to be his patronizing at- 
titude toward ethnic music. '^'^ Since the production 
included many Fluxus artists in its cast, the protest 
underscored the rift that had already developed 
within the group. 

Still, the Fluxus spirit continued to flourish after 
1964, in performance events and in the graphics 
and Fluxus objects produced under Maciunas' guid- 
ance. Using a typographical style similar to that in 
Dada publications, Maciunas tirelessly printed an- 
nouncements, labels, and artists' broadsides. '^"^ He 
also encouraged a number of artists' newspapers, 
the prototype of which was Brecht's V TRE, a pas- 
Opposite: Fig. 62. Title pages oi An Anthology, 1963. Typog- 
raphy by George Maciunas. 


Edlteo bj C. Brcchl for V TOT ( ] 

Available atter 
400 years I 


tch llet>« Bleh 
du UebBl mlch 
cr llebt »lch 

• 1« U«t>t Bich 

«• liebt Bleh 
vir Xltben mlch 
Ihr Ucbt mlch 
dc Ueben tilch 


/ ''f^^' *> ) ^ *"**''* "^^ 

Wat a«v d«n taalat ut MBO* 
Wat d«7 dsn tbolnk ut lfro». Wtmts d«ay dun itioak off Ururkr 
0>«B 4«ldgaun Xia ooaup watta tJ«D aobtloJc If llryc!iyk&. iftttk 
oaks dann qulntc port Anyafflyasyuaka. Oiry duODo . Klct flnJt 
klDt fl&k fust folat o-iffs auaob ouit baJirf ylak Moof blaff 
«bai 10 «ya Hxna alnk of Yaakylotydoo. Wal mauy doad *us 
graw opp to oldluUiaa Uyuka waatdog ooabtuag ooor abrax da 
oaffa aobaalll 

j)o«m pla;. 

/. ffiaiCTPJL IV.-- 

CIRL: Whet 8 tw-tuiiiVL ch;-: 

IKE 3UN falls down onto the su>^e 

Fig. 63. V TRE, edited by George Brecht, including work by 
George Brecht, Diter Rot, Robert Morris, Claes Oldenburg, 
Ruth Krauss, Heinz Gappmayer, Angus MacLise, Jackson Mac 
Low, 1963. 

tiche of found newspaper clippings, Brecht's own 
compositions, and contributions by other artists 
(Fig. 63). 

Maciunas, in part because of his energy and orga- 
nizational abilities, was unquestionably the pri- 
mary force behind the ventures that occurred un- 
der the Fluxus imprimatur.'"' Yet Fluxus remained 
elusive; what it was or who was included within its 
orbit was always a source of debate. '°^ The for- 
mative years of Fluxus nevertheless proved seminal 
to the development of a reductivist art which was 
to find expression in Minimalist sculpture and the 
Judson Dance Theater. 

-—«•■' v« .i iiii<> 'a i«f*-> >/■■ 








The New American Dance 

The conditions in dance in the late fifties were 
similar to those in the other arts. Stifled by the 
hold exerted over modern dance by its innovators, 
aspiring choreographers found themselves in an 
aesthetic cul-de-sac; only by changing the pre- 
sumptive definition of dance did they feel they 
could break new ground. The emergence of the 
Paul Taylor, Erick Hawkins, and Alwin Nikolais 
dance companies during this period can be seen as 
part of the general challenge to modern dance as it 
then prevailed — to what was perceived as the grad- 
ual depletion and mannered stylization of modern 
dance's first revolutionary impulses. 

Among those who actively participated in forg- 
ing a new dance vocabulary were the group of danc- 
ers who formed the Judson Dance Theater: Steve 
Paxton, Deborah Hay, Fred Herko, Elaine Sum- 
mers, Trisha Brown, Ruth Emerson, Yvonne Rainer, 
and Simone Forti.'"^ The last four dancers had 
worked with Ann Halprin in her dance workshop 
near San Francisco. It was there that they formed 
friendships with the artists La Monte Young, 
Walter De Maria, and Robert Morris — friend- 
ships that were strengthened in 1960 when, during 
the course of the year, all arrived in New York. 

Halprin championed a dance style unfettered by 
drama or psychological portrayal. Eager to liberate 
dance from the self-conscious, emotional introver- 
sion associated with Martha Graham, she encour- 
aged natural movements, forcibly expanding the 
vocabulary of dance by assigning task-oriented ac- 
tivities such as sweeping the floor or pouring water 
from one can to another. To further insure against 
the artfulness of "dancing," she used everyday ob- 
jects as props. 

Working simultaneously on the East Coast was 
Merce Cunningham, who had participated in John 
Cage's Black Mountain "event" in the summer of 
1952 (p. Sll.iO"* Like Halprin, Cunningham wanted 
to wrench dance away from narrative associations 
and symbolic conceits.'"'' Under Cage's influence, 
Cunningham began introducing into his work 
natural, commonplace gestures: washing hands. 

Opposite: Carolee Schneemann's Newspaper Event, 1963 
(see Fig. 72). 

Fig. 64. Simone Forti, Steven Paxton, and Alex Hay (hidden) 
performing Forti's Slant Board, first presented at Yoko Ono's 
loft, New York, 1961; shown here in a later presentation at 
the School of Visual Arts, New York, 1967. Photograph by 
Peter Moore. 

combing hair, filing nails, skipping, walking, and 
standing on one's hands. His union of ordinary 
"found movement" and invented dance movements 
was the dance equivalent of assemblage. 

The Halprin-trained dancers arrived in New York 
in time for the inauguration of a dance class given 
in late 1960 at the Cunningham studio by the com- 
poser Robert Dunn and his wife, Judith, a member 
of Cunningham's company. Consciously using his 
experience as a student in Cage's New School class 
as a prototype, Dunn promoted an interdisciplinary 
mingling of dancers and non-dancers. As a com- 
poser, he had little interest in teaching choreo- 
graphic method, and sought instead to stimulate 
his students by applying Cage's theories about 
chance and everyday life to dance. He encouraged 
his students to arrange their compositions through 
random procedures and to experiment with the in- 
corporation of written texts and game assignments. 

Simone Forti, a former Halprin protege, was 
among those taking Dunn's class. Forti's dances, 
the first to rely exclusively on tasks and objects 
to structure movement, were performed at the 
Reuben Gallery in 1960 and in La Monte Young's 
Chambers Street series. Slant Board (1961) was typ- 
ical of her work: for the dance, the performers were 
instructed to climb up an 8-foot-square inclined 
board by means of ropes (Fig. 64). They were al- 


62 The New American Dance 

Fig. 65. Trisha Brown and Steve Paxton in Brown's Lightfall, 
with music by Simone Forti; included m Concert of Dance 4, 
ludson Dance Theater, at the Judson Memorial Church, New 
York, 1963. Photograph by Al Giese. 

\.^^t* ^ 

■t1^ ->^4d»-^^U<^U.^.| 

Fig. 66. Yvonne Rainer and William Davis in "Love," a 
subsection of "Play" from her Terrain, Judson Dance Theater, 
at the Judson Memorial Church, New York, 1963. Photograph 
by Al Giese. 

lowed to rest, but not to get off the ramp for the 
ten-minute duration of the piece. Forti's focus on a 
single action rather than on a sequence of actions 
connected her work conceptually to the Events of 
pre-Fluxus artists such as Young (p. 53). In her strat- 
egy, movement derived from the neutral execution 
of the task rather than from the dancers' display of 
personal expression. This "Minimalist" concept of 
dance also characterized the work of Steve Paxton, 
another Dunn class member, whose dances typ- 
ically consisted of single activities — Paxton sitting 
on a bench eating a sandwich, or running in and 
out of a school office, removing furniture one piece 
at a time. Such dances had a profound impact on 
other artists, particularly Robert Morris, who were 
also moving toward a reductivist vocabulary in 
their art. 

Dunn disbanded his choreography class in the 
fall of 1962, after a successful group performance 
that summer at the Judson Memorial Church. '°^ 
Many of his students continued meeting together, 
first in Yvonne Rainer's studio and later in the 
basement of the Judson Church, which served as 
their official performance space. By this time. Hap- 
penings were on the wane and the artists who had 
initially participated in the Judson Gallery were 
exhibiting elsewhere. Thus, this dance collective, 
known as the Judson Dance Theater, assumed the 
gallery's earlier role of providing the venue for the 
informal gatherings of the downtown art com- 

While the Judson group was never a homoge- 
neous entity, certain commonly held attitudes did 
prevail, the most important of which was the no- 

Fig. 67. Lucinda Childs rehearsing her Carnation, included in 
Concert of Dance 16, Judson Dance Theater, at the Judson 
Memorial Church, New York, 1964. Photograph by Peter 

Fig. 68. Judith Dunn and Steve Paxton pLTtorming Dunn's 
Index, with music by Robert Dunn, included in Concert of 
Dance 4, Judson Dance Theater, at the Judson Memorial 
Church, New York, 1963. Photograph by Al Giese. 

The New American Dance 63 

Fig. 69. Philip Corner's Certain Distilling Processes, included in Concert of 
Dance 4, [udson Dance Theater, at the judson Memorial Church, New York, 1963. 
Photograph by Al Giese. 

Fig. 70. Steve Paxton's English, in- 
cluded in Concert of Dance 4, Judson 
Dance Theater, at the Judson Memo- 
rial Church, New York, 1963. Photo- 
graph by Al Giese. 

Fig. 71. Lucinda Childs performing her Pastime, included in Concert of Dance 4, Judson Dance Theater, at the Judson 
Memorial Church, New York, 1963. Photograph by Al Giese. 

64 The New American Dance 

Fig. 72. Carolee Schnccmann's Newspaper Event, included in 
Concert of Dance 3, (udson Dance Theater, at the ludson 
Memorial Church, New York, 1963. Photograph by Al Giese. 

Fig. 73. Carolee Schneemann's Meat ]oy at the fudson Memo- 
rial Church, New York, 1964. Photograph by Peter Moore. 

tion that anything could be looked upon as dance. 
Since neither technical virtuosity (the dance equiv- 
alent of painterliness) nor choreographic skill vs^as a 
pivotal issue, dancers felt free — as did Happening 
and Fluxus artists — to choose performers from 
other disciplines, with no previous "dance" training. 

What held favor with the Judson dancers was the 
matter-of-fact deployment of "found" movements 
—walking, running, falling, rolling, and so on (Figs. 
65-71). In ludith Dunn's Acapulco (1963), one 
dancer simply walked slowly toward center stage 
and brushed the hair of a dancer seated on a chair; 
in Alex Hay's Colorado Plateau (1964), Hay dragged 
and carried dancers from one position to another in 
accordance with the taped instructions of his voice. 

The appropriation of pedestrian subject matter 

was analogous to that in the other arts. So too was 
dance's denial of mythic revelation and the expres- 
sion of personal emotions. Dance objectified move- 
ment, as had Fluxus Events, by replacing illu- 
sionistic time with real time, allotting, for 
example, the amount of time it takes to tie a shoe 
to the performance of that activity. Any reference 
to things or emotions beyond the literal or concrete 
was shunned. 

This deliberately neutral presentation of mate- 
rial even included emotions: in one section of 
Yvonne Rainer's "love duet" Terrain, she delivered 
hackneyed expressions ("I love you," "I don't love 
you," "I've never loved you") in a flat monotone 
which one critic likened to the recitation of a gro- 
cery order. ^07 This coupling of emotional "content" 
with impersonal execution paralleled the emo- 
tionally charged subject matter and depersonalized 
presentation audiences were finding in Pop Art, es- 
pecially as practiced by Roy Lichtenstein and Andy 

The deracinated gestures in these dances, iso- 
lated from their quotidian contexts, became visible 
as abstract movement, as pleasing to watch as clas- 
sic dance steps. For example, when Rainer emerged 
from a somersault to walk across the stage, the 
effect was riveting. In performing such stripped- 
down actions, the new dancers cleansed dance of 
artifice and ornamentation, asserting in the process 
the power and beauty of movement as movement. 

Although most of the new dances shared the re- 
ductivist spirit of Fluxus, a few bordered on the 
baroque theatricality of Happenings — in partic- 
ular, Fred Herko's costumed ballets, and Carolee 
Schneemann's orgiastic rituals in which the 
human body was used as another material placed 
within found-object "painting-constructions" (Figs. 
72, 73). The caricatured violence in War (1963), a 
collaboration between Robert Huot and Robert 
Morris, opened with La Monte Young playing Gong 
Music (for Henry Flynt) for five minutes while the 
audience sat in darkness. When the lights went on, 
Morris and Huot, dressed in shaggy armor of col- 
laged found objects, released two doves into the 
auditorium and then ran toward each other and be- 
gan fighting with handmade stick weapons (Fig. 74). 
This dance, like subsequent Morris performan- 
ces, was based on the strategy of allowing the per- 
formers' actions to emerge from the assigned task. 

The New American Dance 65 

Fig. 74. Robert Rauschenberg's set for Paul 
Taylor's The Tower at the 92nd Street 
YMCA, New York, 1957. Mixed media con- 
struction, 119'/4 X 16 X 48" (302.9 x 40.6 x 
121.9 cm). Collection of Mr. and Mrs. 
Victor W. Ganz. 

Fig. 75. Robert Morris in his costume for War, a collaboration with Robert 
Huot, included in Concert of Dance 4, Judson Dance Theater, at the ludson 
Memorial Church, New York, 1963. Photograph by Mark Heddon. 

The connection between Happenings and dance 
in the early 1960s was part of a larger interdisci- 
plinary relationship. As dance critic Jill Johnston 
noted, "the Judson choreographers, the Pop artists, 
the Cage/Cunningham axis, the Lower East Side 
society, the Happenings creators and the Neo-Dada 
or Fluxus performers mixed incestuously in a 
broad network of social/personal/professional in- 
terests." '0^ La Monte Young, Richard Maxfield, and 
David Tudor created music for a number of con- 
temporary dances; visual artists such as Morris and 
Rauschenberg participated in performances as 
dancers; Cunningham, who earlier had been en- 
couraged by Cage to structure his dance with 
chance techniques, frequently used Cage's music 

as an independent entity in his performances. 
Moreover, Cunningham obtained the services of 
Rauschenberg, Jasper Johns, Frank Stella, and Andy 
Warhol, among others, to design costumes and 
stage sets. Oldenburg created costumes for the 
dancer Aileen Passloff; Rauschenberg and Johns 
had designed sets and lighting for Paul Taylor as 
early as 1954 and 1957, respectively (Fig. 75). And 
James Waring, an important part of the downtown 
dance community though not a member of the 
Judson Dance Theater, commissioned music and 
solicited the assistance of visual artists — Rausch- 
enberg, Brecht, Grooms, Whitman, Larry Poons, 
and Robert Indiana — to design decorations and cos- 
tumes for his pieces (Fig. 76). 

66 The New AmericiUi Dance 

Fig. 76. Yvonne Ramer (left) and Valda Setterfield in |ames 
Waring's At the Hallelujah Gardens, James Waring and Dance 
Company, Hunter Playhouse, New York, 1963. Photograph by 
Peter Moore. 

fig. 77. Robert Rauschenberg in his dance Pelican, included 
in the Pop Art Festival at the America on Wheels skating 
rink, Washington, D.C., 1963; shown here in a later presenta- 
tion at the First New York Theater Rally, 1965. Photograph 
by Peter Moore. 

Fig. 78. Robert Morris performing his Arizona, included in Concert of Dance 6, Judson Dance Theater, at the Judson Memorial 
Church, New York, 1963. Photographs by Al Giese. 

The New American Dance 67 

Fig. 79. Robert Morris and Carolee Schneemann performing Morns' Site, at the Sur + Dance Theater, Stage 73, New York, 
1964. Photograph by Peter Moore. 

In addition to participating as costume and set 
designers, several of those who turned to choreo- 
graphy were painters and sculptors — Schneemann, 
Alex Hay, Rauschenberg (Fig. 77), and Robert Mor- 
ris. Typically, Morris' dance pieces were sequences 
of uninflected and non-referential movement. His 
first such dance, Arizona (1963), a concatenation of 
discrete, episodic activities, resembled in some 
ways the Paul Taylor dance which earlier had in- 
spired Kaprow (p. 34): in the first five-minute sec- 
tion of Arizona, a tape-recorded voice minutely de- 
scribed the process of sorting cows, while Morris 
twisted his torso from side to side so slowly that 
the movement was barely perceptible (Fig. 78); in 
the second and third parts, again accompanied by 
an unrelated text, he threw a javelin into a target 
and unwound and then swung two blue lights on a 
string over the heads of the audience, who sat in 
darkness; in the final section he manipulated a T- 
square. 21.3 (1964) again offered an exaggerated 
economy of movement. Standing at a lectern, Mor- 
ris mouthed the words of a tape-recorded passage 
from Erwin Panofsky's Studies in Iconology while 
executing gestures — pouring water into a cup — 

which corresponded to extraneous sounds on the 
tape. However, as with Arizona, the gestures were 
separated from their language equivalent, in this 
case because Morris' mimed re-enactment of the 
text was intentionally out of sync with the re- 
corded version by several seconds. By 1964, in Site 
(Fig. 79), Morris was unequivocally exploring in 
dance the same sort of concerns that were finding 
expression in his Minimalist sculpture (p. 99). 

Parallels between the new dance and sculpture 
were not limited to Morris' work. Yvonne Rainer 
analyzed the reductivist tendencies in both media, 
observing that the elimination of technical vir- 
tuosity in dance corresponded to Minimalist sculp- 
ture's elimination of the artist's autobiographical 
markings. ^°^ The stress in dance and sculpture was 
on unselfconscious formal devices, devoid of all 
symbolic and psychological allusion. Rainer fur- 
ther suggested that Minimalist sculpture had re- 
placed metaphorical content and autobiography 
with factory fabrication, unitary shapes, non-refer- 
ential forms, and literalism, while the new dance 
had done so with found movement, equality of 
parts, neutral performance, and task-like activity. 




107 E 2hdST 


■ ixi c^ o €> v» e: ff« >%. T I O l%l ^^l-TI-l 


Fig. 80. Claes Oldenburg's poster for The Store, at the Ray Gun Mfg. Co., New York, 1961-62. 

Pop Art 

The impulse in the performing arts toward the tan- 
gible and the quotidian was transformed into more 
permanent works by the Pop artists. Just as their 
colleagues in other fields had shunned the sym- 
bolic and metaphoric conceits of predecessors, so 
too did Pop painters and sculptors strive to bring 
art back into contact with the concrete and the 

For painting and sculpture, Martha Jackson's 
1961 show "Environments, Situations, Spaces" pro- 
vided the first look at this new development. This 
exhibition, in which Brecht had presented his word 
event (Fig. 54) and Kaprow his environment Yard 
(Fig. 27), had also included Oldenburg's new cycle 
of work. The Store (Fig. 81). The Store took the form 
of brightly painted plaster reliefs of everyday com- 

Fig. 81. Claes Oldenburg with his plaster reliefs for The 
Store, in "Environments, Situations, Spaces" at the Martha 
Jackson Gallery, New York, 1961. Photograph by Robert R. 

Fig. 82. Claes Oldenburg in his Store, at the Ray Gun Mfg. Co., New York, 1961-62. 


70 h^p Art 

Fig. 83. Clacs Oldcnburj;, Four 
Pies 111 a Glass Case, 1961. 
Enamel on plaster in painted 
metal and glass case, 5 'A x 
30 X 9" (13.3 X 76.2 x 
22.9 cm). Collection of 
Robert K. Hoffman. 

Fig. 84. Claes Oldenburg, The White Slip, 
1961. Pamted plaster, 41'/* x 291/4 x 3Vi" 
(106 X 74.3 X 8.9 cm). Whitney Museum 
of American Art, New York; Promised 
gift of Howard and Jean Lipman P. 55.80. 

Fig. 85. Claes Oldenburg, The Store, at the Green Gallery, New York, 1962. 

modities — shoes, foodstuffs, fragments of advertis- 
ing signs. Suspended in the stairwell and front win- 
dow of the gallery like a random display in a messy 
shop window, The Store manifested Oldenburg's in- 
creased involvement with commercial and man- 
ufactured objects. In contrast to the charred and 
torn relics of his Street (pp. 26, 27), these plaster 
reliefs were blatantly commercial in subject. The 
Store continued to evoke the culture of the Lower 
East Side, but it no longer commented on the bleak 
and despairing consequences of poverty and crime. 
Instead, the spirit of the installation was ebullient 
and sensual; it was about buying and selling. 

Oldenburg's next version of The Store posed even 
more penetrating questions about the relationship 
between art and commerce. For two months begin- 
ning in December 1961, he ran a "business" in an 
actual storefront on East Second Street under the 
aegis of the Ray Gun Mfg. Co. (Figs. 80, 82). Using 
the typical small business as his model, he sold 

plaster re-creations of foodstuffs and merchandise 
in the front half of the shop, while replenishing the 
inventory in his studio in the rear (Figs. 83, 84). In 
this way, Oldenburg conflated art and commerce. 
Yet, despite the verisimilitude of his storefront 
shop, it was not Oldenburg's intention to eradicate 
the distinction between art and life. For him the 
division between an art based on everyday objects 
and the objects themselves remained critical. Thus 
his motivation differed markedly from that of Cage 
and the Fluxus artists, whose advocacy of an art- 
life merger he disparaged: "The danger is to forget 
art and merely construct parables, to become a 
wise man rather than an artist. . . . No one can say 
that Cage with his mushroom picking ... is not a 
super-wise man, but there is some argument about 
his being an artist." "° 

Oldenburg's switch in subject matter from 
human figures to objects was motivated by formal 
interests. He distrusted the merchandising of 

American life as much as he had its poverty, but he 
saw in its products the potential for a more subtle 
manipulation of formal properties than that al- 
lowed with figuration. With The Store, Oldenburg 
transferred his figurative impulses from people to 
objects; from a representation of man to a symbol 
of man. Just as in his Happening World's Fair, II 
(1962) he implied that one of his characters could 
be judged by what the character had in his 
pockets,'" so now he treated his wrinkled, bump- 
tious objects as surrogates for the human body. Not 
only did he succeed in "mak[ing] hostile objects 
human, ""2 but he developed an iconography in 
which objects were identified with specific body 
parts: hamburgers were breasts, two adjacent disks 
were ears. 

When Oldenburg opened the next incarnation of 
The Store at Richard Bellamy's Green Gallery in 
September 1962, he further equated objects and 
human anatomy. His sculptures were now on a 
human scale and soft — sewn out of canvas and 
stuffed with kapok in a manner reminiscent of the 
props in his Happenings (Fig. 85). Saggmg and re- 
arrangeable, they were, like the human body, prey 
to gravity. With the Green Gallery exhibition, 
Oldenburg brought The Store to Fifty-Seventh 
Street; the change of location from downtown to 

Pop Art 71 

uptown represented, as Sidney Tillim noted at the 
time, Oldenburg's change of fortune as he pro- 
gressed from blue collar to white. "^ 

Jim Dine, meanwhile, had made a similar move 
toward the replication of commercial objects. Al- 
though the environment he created for the 1961 
Jackson show (Fig. 86) harked back to his earlier 
found-object work, his concurrent paintings de- 
picted commonplace objects isolated on the canvas 
against monochromatic fields, often of sensuous 
paint (Figs. 87, 88). Below these painted forms. 
Dine often inscribed their names — "shoe," "ani- 
mal," or "tie." The effect of such word-image ana- 
logues was a sort of deadpan wit — far more playful 
than the demonic humor some critics had per- 
ceived in his Happenings."^ 

In 1962, the year Oldenburg began making his 
soft sculpture. Dine gave up painting replicas of 
objects and began affixing the real things to his 
canvases (Fig. 89). And the household paraphernalia 
he used was new — not worn or abandoned like the 
debris in his assemblages. The pristine, glistening 
pieces thus came to stand for the products of an 
industrialized society. And their very newness gave 
them anonymity, an impersonal detachment im- 
possible to achieve with used objects. 

Fig. 86. |im Dine in his Spring Cabinet, in "Environments, Situations, 
Spaces" at the Martha Jackson Gallery, New York, 1961. Photograph by Robert 
R. McElroy. 

Fig. 87. Jim Dine, Black Zipper, 1962. Oil 
and mixed media on canvas, 96 x 72" 
(243.8 X 182.9 cm). Collection of Ilcana and 
Michael Sonnabend; on indefinite loan to 
The Baltimore Museum of Art. 

72 Pop Art 

Fig. 88. Iim Dine, Shoe, 1961. Oil on canvas, 64 x Si'/?" (162.6 x 130.8 cm). Private collection. 

Pop An 73 

/-6<</< i%>y^vT^»j>H^ 7 

Fig. 89. Jim Dine, Black Bathroom #2, 1962. Oil drawing and china washbasin on canvas, 72 x 72" (182.9 x 182.9 cm) 
Art Gallery of Ontario, Toronto; Gift of Mr. and Mrs. M. H. Rapp. 

74 Pop Art 

Fig. 90. George Segal, The Dinner Table, 1962. Plaster, wood, and metal, 72 x 120 x 120" (182.9 x 304.8 x 304.8 cm) 
Private collection. 

Yet Dine's work remained far more subjective 
than, say, Brecht's, whose similar repertory of ob- 
jects was never treated to expressive paint han- 
dhng. Nor did Dine entirely forfeit his figurative 
intentions; like Oldenburg, he simply transferred 
them to objects which became surrogate perform- 
ers, acting out the mini-dramas of his unconscious, 
as he himself had done in his Happenings (p. 40). 

Because Oldenburg and Dine retained the ges- 
tural style of their painterly forebears, they forged a 
link between Abstract Expressionism and what be- 
came known as Pop Art. Far from breaking irrever- 
ently with the past, they carried its style across 
new frontiers. "Lately I have begun to understand 
action painting," Oldenburg wrote. "By parodying 
its corn I have (miracle) come back to its authen- 

ticity! I feel as if Pollock is sitting on my shoulder, 
or rather crouching in my pants!" "-^ And Dine: "I 
tie myself to Abstract-Expressionism like fathers 
and sons.""^' 

The third artist whose work bridged Abstract Ex- 
pressionist style and Pop subject matter was 
George Segal. Segal matured aesthetically, as had 
Oldenburg and Dine, within an ambience of figura- 
tion and assemblage. A member of the Hansa Gal- 
lery, he had rebelled early on against what he felt to 
be Abstract Expressionism's proscription against 
incorporating everyday reality into art. Through 
his close friendship with Kaprow and the atmo- 
sphere generated by Kaprow's Happenings (p. 32), 
Segal was encouraged to transform the figurative 
images in his paintings into realistic, life-size plas- 

Pop An 75 

ter figures placed within environmental contexts 
(Fig. 90).''^ While adamantly rejecting the 
ephemerality of Happenings, Segal nonetheless 
embraced their banal subject matter. His plaster 
figures, their quotidian settings and actions, and 
the spectator involvement demanded by the tab- 
leau form of presentation constituted Segal's ver- 
sion of his friends' theatrical events. His w^orks re- 
sembled frozen Happenings in which performers 
engaged in isolated and often private, self-involved 
actions — combing hair, bathing, eating (Fig. 91). 

Segal's technique of molding the plaster directly 
on his models allowed for a remarkably literal tran- 
scription of idiosyncratic gestures and poses. With 
his figures placed in relatively sparse found-object 
sets, the result was a new, austere realism, not un- 
like that in later Pop images. Yet Segal's textural 
manipulation of the plaster surfaces, and his more 
blatantly figurative aspirations — to reveal how peo- 
ple relate to one another and to their surround- 
ings — classed his work with that of Oldenburg and 

Fig. 91. George Segal, Woman Shaving Her Leg, 1963. Plaster, 
metal, porcelain, and masonite, 63 x 65 x 30" (160 x 165.1 
X 76.2 cm). Collection of Mrs. Robert B. Mayer; on long- 
term loan to the Museum of Contemporary Art, Chicago. 

While Oldenburg, Dine, and Segal were wedding 
expressive handling with commercial subject mat- 
ter, a second group of Pop artists — Andy Warhol, 
Roy Lichtenstein, Tom Wesselmann, and James 
Rosenquist — took the issue of merchandising and 
focused it on advertising images. Rather than rep- 
licating or using three-dimensional objects, these 
artists annexed the two-dimensional versions that 
appeared in advertisements, newspapers, and com- 
ics. Here finally was an art which irrefutably cap- 
tured the modern media world. 

The license to turn to this world had, to some 
extent, emerged from the atmosphere surrounding 
Happenings and junk environments. Although the 
second group of Pop artists had not directly partici- 
pated in these events and installations, they were 
not immune to its appropriation of American pop- 
ular culture. The allusion m Grooms' Happenings 
to Dick Tracy and Orphan Annie, Oldenburg's 
graffiti-like style and his silhouetted figures with 
word balloons coming out of their mouths in The 
Street, the creation of Ray Gun comics — all con- 
tributed to the artists' acceptance of popular imag- 
ery as viable sources for art. For Wesselmann, the 
contact with these art forms — and the impetus to 
pursue them — came through the Judson Gallery, 
where he was an early exhibitor, along with Dine, 
Oldenburg, and Marcus Ratliff. By 1962 the small- 
scale, figurative collages of his earlier years (Fig. 92) 
had become collages of advertising images and ac- 
tual objects (Fig. 93). By 1963 these works were 
often situated on the floor, demanding a level of 
viewer involvement analogous to that in Happen- 
ings — the space of the artwork and that of the 
viewer being implicitly the same (Fig. 94). Experi- 
encing them was like being jammed against the 
performers in a Happening. He reinforced the in- 
trusion into the spectator's space by including tele- 
vision sets with ever-changing images or tele- 
phones that rang at periodic intervals. 

In Lichtenstein's case. Happenings and junk en- 
vironments vindicated the appreciation for the 
power of cliched and parodied images expressed in 
his earlier work: semi-abstract Cubist renditions of 
Frederic Remington's cowboys and Indians from 
the mid-fifties and his loosely painted images of 
comic-strip characters from 1957-58 (Fig. 95)."^ 
But these predilections were not fully expressed 
until the summer of 1961, when he enlarged one of 

76 Pop Art 

Fig. 92. Tom Wesselmann, I'uttrau Collage #1, 1959. Mixed media and 
collage on board, 9Vi x 11" (24.1 x 27.9 cm). Collection of Claire 

Fig. 9i. Tom Wesselmann, Still Life #17, 1962. 
Mixed media and collage on board, 48 x 36" 
(121.9 X 91.4 cm). The Morton G. Neumann 
Family Collection. 

Fig. 94. ! M \'\rssclinann, Bathtub Collage #2, 1963. Mixed media, collage, and assemblage on board, 48 x 72 x 6Vi" 
(121.9 x 182.9 X 16.5 cm). Private collection. 

Pop Art 77 

the cartoon images he had drawn for his children 
into a painting (Fig. 96). Radical though it was, 
Lichtenstein's move was in step with the times. He 
acknowledged that Oldenburg's blatantly trashy 
subjects and open confrontation with the issue of 
merchandising had affected him more than the 
work of lohns or Rauschenberg: "An Oldenburg 
'Fried Egg' is much more glamorized merchandise 
and relates to my ideas more than Johns' beer 
cans.""^ He later credited Happenings with being 
"the greatest influence on my work."^^° 

Lichtenstein had been brought into contact with 
Happenings and junk environments while teaching 
at Rutgers University with Kaprow and Robert 
Watts. ^^^ Warhol and Rosenquist, on the other 
hand, were relatively uninformed about the ac- 
tivities of the downtown art community. Both had 
been connected with commercial art — Warhol as 
an advertising illustrator, Rosenquist as a window 
designer at Bonwit Teller and as a billboard painter 
(Figs. 97, 98). Although Rosenquist's involvement 
with large-scale media images emerged primarily 
from this latter experience, he too was affected by 
what Lichtenstein described as the "kind of thing 
[that] was in the air."^-' Particularly in Rosenquist's 
sculptures and combination paintings (Figs. 99, 
100), one can see his debt to the found-object tradi- 
tion promoted at the Judson and Reuben galleries. 

Warhol's annexation of media images apparently 
occurred almost as abruptly as had Rosenquist's. 
One day in 1960 he simply decided to paint replicas 
of what he most liked — the advertisements and 
cartoon images in cheap magazines (Figs. 101, 102). 
Given what at the time seemed Warhol's almost 
indiscriminate delight in everything around him, 
his apparent ignorance of Cage is ironic; more than 
any other contemporary painter, Warhol embodied 
Cage's affirmation that life needs no aesthetic me- 
diation, that it is rewarding simply as it is. Cage 
found this principle particularly operative in War- 
hol's serial images: "Andy has fought by repetition 
to show us that there is no repetition really, that 
everything we look at is worthy of our attention. 
That's been a major direction for the twentieth cen- 
tury art, it seems to me.''^^^ 

The model for replicating inherently two-dimen- 
sional images had been provided by Jasper Johns. 
Included in Johns' 1958 exhibition at the Leo 
Castelli Gallery were paintings from 1955 to 1958 

Fig. 95. Roy Lichtenstein, Mickey Mouse, 1958. India ink and 
pastel on paper, 19 x 25" (48.2 x 63.5 cm). Collection of the 


A BIG il ONE// 

Fig. 96. Roy Lichtenstein, Look Mickey, 1961. Oil on canvas, 
48 X 69" (121.9 X 175.3 cm). Collection of the artist. 

depicting flags, targets, and maps. But instead of 
transforming these motifs by setting them within 
an illusionistic painting space, Johns presented 
them verbatim, as two-dimensional objects (Figs. 
103, 104). Moreover, since the shapes and internal 
details of his images pre-existed, Johns' strategy 
implied a forfeiture of artistic decision making. '-•* 
And because his subjects were inherently two-di- 
mensional, they were more like signs than palpable 
objects; they threw into question the relationship 
between the painted image and the "real" image. 
The query about whether his painting was a flag or 
a painting of a flag anticipated that asked about the 
commercial images in Pop Art; were they paintings 
of a soup can or paintings of an advertisement for a 
soup can? 

78 Pop Art 

Fig. 97. James Rosenquist, window dis- 
play, Bonwit Teller, New York, 1959. 

Fig. 98. Andy Warhol, window display, Bonwit Teller, New York, 1961. 

Fig. 100. fames Rosenquist, Bedspring, 1962. Oil on canvas 
with twine, 36 x 36" (91.4 x 91.4 cm). Collection of the 

Fig. 99. James Rosenquist, He Swallowed the Chain, 1963. 
Paint, plastic, string, plus bamboo pole with canvas and wood 
base, 48 X 48 X 43" (121.9 x 121.9 x 109.2 cm). Collection 
of Richard Brown Baker; on loan to the Yale University Art 
Gallery, New Haven. 

Pop Art 79 

Johns himself did not pursue the impHcations of 
two-dimensional subject matter in his work. In- 
stead, after 1960 he began to place actual found 
objects against his canvas fields, now rendered 
with a broader and more fluid painting style than 
he had used in his earlier work (Fig. 105). This 
union of found objects with an expressive paint 
surface clearly related these paintings more to 
Dine's and Oldenburg's work than to that of the 
media-oriented Pop artists. Yet it was undoubtedly 
Johns' earlier appropriation of two-dimensional 
subjects that paved the way for the Pop artists' sub- 
sequent appropriation of another kind of flat imag- 
ery — taken from the media. 

In its developmental stage, the work of the me- 
dia-based Pop artists was far looser and more paint- 
erly than the more hard-edged style with which 
they are generally associated. In Warhol's first ad- 
vertising and cartoon paintings, for example, the 
imagery referred to the original advertisements, 
but the paint was loosely applied and contained 
remnants of Abstract Expressionist "drips" (Figs. 
106, 102). Even his thirty-two-part series of Camp- 
bell's Soup Cans (Fig. 107) and his newspaper head- 
lines, advertisements, and dance-step diagrams of 
1961 and 1962 were still painted by hand (Fig. 108). 
It was not until late 1962 that he adopted the im- 
personal, mass-produced technique of the silk- 
screen. Ironically, even after this, his images re- 
tained a handmade look, owing to irregular inkings 
of the screen and uneven pressure in the printing 
(Fig. 109). 

The paint handling in Rosenquist's works of 1961 
and 1962 was likewise labored and heavy, and his 
palette dark (Figs. 110-12) in comparison with sub- 
sequent works. The steely edges and graduated 
tones that later became his trademark did not 
emerge until 1962, when he adopted the tech- 
niques of billboard paintings (Fig. 113). And 
Lichtenstein's first paintings based on advertise- 
ments or comic-strip images (Fig. 116) do not in- 
clude the background of Ben-Day dots which he 
later used to simulate the mechanical and deper- 
sonalized look of industrial printing. Moreover, 
even after he added this technique, his paintings 
prior to 1964 appear stiff when measured against 
later works. 

Still, in the context of Abstract Expressionism, 
Pop Art, even in its early stages, seemed defiantly 

Fig. 101. Andy Warhol, Wigs, 1960. Oil and wax 
crayon on canvas, ZO'/s x 40" (178.1 x 101.6 cm). Dia 
Art Foundation, New York. 


Fig. 102. Andy Warhol, $199 Television, 1960. Oil on canvas, 
61Va X 49'/2" (158.1 X 125.7 cm). Collection of Kimiko and 
John Powers. 

80 Pop Art 

Fig. 103. Jasper Johiii, iar^ct witn I'la^tcr Leasts, 1955. EncaustK and Lulla>;L un canvas with objects, 51 x 44 ,■- 31/ 1129.3 
111.8 X 8.9 cm). Collection of Mr. and Mrs. Leo Castelli. 


it-4t ** ••*•**••, 
_? ? *• ••••*•••' 
XX 22 •*••••**, 
^^ 7 ^ *•••••••' 
^^ *> ••••••*•■ 

Pop Art 81 


Fig. 104. Jasper Johns, Three Flags, 1958. Encaustic on canvas, SOVs x 45'/2 x 5" 
(78.4 X 115.6 X 12.7 cm). WJiitney Museum of American Art, New York; 
50th Anniversary gift of the Gilman Foundation, Inc., the Lauder Foundation, 
A. Alfred Taubman, an anonymous donor (and purchase). 80.32. 

Right: Fig. 105. Jasper Johns, Fool's House, 1962. Oil on canvas with 
objects, 72 x 36" (182.9 x 91.4 cm). Collection of Jean Christophe 

impersonal. The use of pre-existing images and the 
near elimination of visible paint handling mili- 
tated against the expression of emotions. "I want 
my painting to look as if it had been programmed. I 
want to hide the record of my hand," Lichtenstein 
said.i^"^ And Warhol went so far as to announce that 
"somebody should be able to do all my paintings 
for me. . . . The reason I'm painting this way is that 
I want to be a machine." ^^^ For artists in this period, 
the desire to reduce overt subjectivity was compel- 
ling: it was the predominant bond between works 
of apparent stylistic diversity. '^^ Implied by the as- 
semblagists' interpolation of found objects, the di- 
minution of unbridled subjectivity had been taken 
even further in "concrete" music and in the 
straightforward enactment of "concrete" move- 
ment in Fluxus and dance. It had been the inspira- 
tion behind Cage's and others' promotion of chance 
techniques. (That Cage's advocacy of chance 
emerged out of Zen Buddhist precepts against indi- 
vidual ego did not lessen its impact on the arts.) 

In literature, the subversion of subjectivity char- 
acterized Alain Robbe-Grillet's "objective novels," 

in which things and events were substituted for the 
psychology of human motivation.'-^ Susan Sontag 
applauded the lack of interpretive analysis and 
metaphor in contemporary art as a means to put 
viewers back in touch with their intuitions.'-"^ 
Other writers deplored it. Irving Howe later de- 
scribed the literary sensibility of the age as shallow, 
escapist, and nihilistic. He lambasted the "relaxed 
pleasures and surface hedonism" of the period and 
asked whether such indifference to morality and 
ideas was "compatible with a high order of culture 
or a complex civilization." '-^'^ 

Yet even for those distrustful of excessive dis- 
plays of subjectivity, the Pop painters' adoption of 
cool, detached techniques that mimicked commer- 
cial art posed a severe challenge to the notion of 
artistic originality and authorship. Lichtenstein 
and Warhol came in for particular abuse over this 
issue. Their paintings were denounced as mere en- 
largements of other images, so close to their 
sources that their art was pointless. In fact, these 
artists brought to their work a sophisticated level 
of formalist invention and decision making which 

82 Pop Art 

Fig. 106. Andy Warhol, Dick Tracy, 1960. 

Oil on canvas, 70Vi x 5T/s" 

(179.1 X 133.7 cm). Private collection. 


ii 11^ 

"S" *5> Of^ 

Fig. 107. Installation view of Andy Warhol's one-artist exhibition at the Ferus 
Gallery, Los Angeles, 1962. 

Fig. 108. Andy Warhol, BefoTC and After, 3, 
1962. Synthetic polymer on canvas, 74 x 100" 
(188 x 254 cm). Whitney Museum of American 
Art, New York; Gift of Charles Simon (and 
purchase). 71.226. 

Fig. 109. Andy Warhol, Elvis, 1964. Silkscreen 
on canvas, 82 x 60" (208.3 x 152.4 cm). Collec- 
tion of Peppino Agrati. 

/ ' / / 


Pop Art 83 

Fig. 110. James Rosenquist, The Light That Won't Fail, I, 1961. Oil on canvas, 72 x 96" (182.9 x 243.8 cm). Hirshhorn 
Museum and Sculpture Garden, Smithsonian Institution, Washington, D.C. 

even a cursory comparison with the original mod- 
els reveals (Figs. 114, 115). More important, detrac- 
tors failed to comprehend that Pop artists, through 
their choice and manipulation of images, were pro- 
posing a new kmd of subjectivity — one that did not 
rest on the artist's expressive gesture. 

From our present-day perspective, it is clear that 
Pop artists chose mass-produced images as vehicles 
through which to explore contemporary culture. 
As Oldenburg wrote in 1963: "It is the false and 
cynical treatment of real emotion, as in today's 
publications, that fascinates me and yields more 
truth." '"*' By the 1950s, modern media — television, 
advertising, comic books — had become key trans- 
mitters of values in American life.'"*^ Information 
came to people primarily secondhand, through me- 
dia sources. The messages and imagery from these 

sources had assumed a normative validity, repre- 
senting universal fantasies, determining assump- 
tions about love, death, and propriety. They were 
the nearest thing to models for personal and public 
modes of thought and behavior. Behind the cliches 
and simpleminded appeals lay some measure of 
truth to which the culture subscribed. 

Yet the judgments Pop artists made about the 
culture represented by these images remained am- 
biguous. Their art was neither exclusively cele- 
bratory nor satirical. Though Lichtenstein con- 
ceded that he drew his imagery from the most 
despicable and abhorrent aspects of American life, 
his treatment of these images was far from dis- 
paraging.'" The fantasies of heroism and romance 
portrayed in his comic-book stereotypes could be 
viewed either as profound or as mocking (Figs. 
117-119). Again, though Oldenburg announced 

84 Pop Art 

Fig. 111. lames Rosenquist, Four 1949 Guys, 1962. Oil on 
canvas, 60 x 48" (152.4 x 121.9 cm). Hara Museum of Con- 
temporary Art, Tokyo. 

that he detested American culture, he nonetheless 
assembled a "museum" of kitsch items, many of 
which he used as models."'' One must remember 
too that these were the peak years of camp — the 
celebration of the outrageous, the exaggerated, the 
artificial. '^^ In this spirit, Warhol's portraits of pub- 
lic personalities could simultaneously exalt and 
denigrate the celebrity's status as cultural icon. His 
serial images of Marilyn Monroe — the face re- 
peated but never altered, save by color — reveal how 
superficial is the knowledge of a person with 
whom the culture assumes such familiarity (Fig. 
120). The disquieting suggestion of death which 
pervades many of these early portraits is made 
more explicit in Warhol's serial depictions of disas- 
ters (Fig. 121).^'"'' The very repetition of the images 
reflects the way the horror of such events becomes 
neutralized by constant exposure in newspapers 
and on television. 

In a subtle but definitive way, Warhol's images — 
and those of other media Pop artists — transferred 
subjectivity to the viewer. Warhol's pictorial treat- 
ment of the subject was the same, whether it was a 
car crash or soup can. Thus it offered no ready com- 
mentary on the depicted scene. In contrast to the 
celebratory art practiced by American Regionalists 
like Thomas Hart Benton or the satirical work of 
left-wing social commentators like George Grosz 
and Ben Shahn, Pop Art forced viewers into a more 

Fig. 112. James Rosenquist, The Lines Were Deeply Etched 
on the Map of Her Face, 1961-62. Oil on canvas, 66 x 78" 
(167.6 X 198.1 cm). Collection of Mr. and Mrs. Robert 

Fig. 113. James Rosenquist, Two 1959 People, 1963. Oil and 
assemblage on canvas, 72 x 93'/8" (182.9 x 236.5 cm). Rose 
Art Museum, Brandeis University, Waltham, Massachusetts; 
Gevirtz-Mnuchin Purchase Fund. 

Pop Art 85 




S«.«1h m the rifan** 
mi^nded by reft 
mftnufarlurer* S 
flflmp (loth find 
•ivirfacD*. Wasi) i*"f 
other containers 
lion of 3 lh« 
quart of water 

Fig. 114. Package design. 
Source of Roy Lichtenstein's 
The Refrigerator, 1962. 

Fig. 115. Roy Lichtenstein, The Refrig- 
erator, 1962. Oil on canvas, 68 x 58" 
(172.7 X 147.3 cm). Collection of Mr. 
and Mrs. Peter M. Brant. 

Fig. 116. Roy Lichtenstein, Kitchen Range, 

1961. Oil on canvas, 68'/. x 68'/:" (174 x 

174 cm). Australian National Gallery, Canberra. 

decisive role in determining the image's meaning. 

Viewer participation in Pop Art was further en- 
couraged by the pubhc and standardized nature of 
the imagery. Everybody could talk about a painting 
of Marilyn Monroe in a way not possible with Ab- 
stract Expressionist canvases since Pop Art's im- 
ages reflected not individual experiences but gen- 
eral ones. By invoking cultural rather than personal 
symbols, they empowered an otherwise diverse au- 
dience to make judgments and form opinions, thus 
shifting the responsibility for interpretation to 
each individual. The most public images thereby 
came to have the deepest connection to the 
viewer's private experience. 

Because of the accessibility of its imagery, Pop 
Art was thrust almost instantly into the forefront 
of the art world. Unlike Happenings and junk en- 
vironments, which remained essentially down- 
town phenomena. Pop Art was acclaimed by estab- 
lished uptown galleries and widely discussed in the 
press. Most astonishing was that this notoriety 
came almost overnight. Before 1962, Pop artists 
were known, if at all, to only a handful of people. 
By February 1962, Dine, Rosenquist, and Lichten- 
stein had opened financially successful one-man 
exhibitions uptown; by September, Oldenburg had 
a similar triumph. In March 1962, the first article 
dealing with this new art as a cohesive movement 
appeared.'-^'' That the critic's assessment of "Neo- 

Dada" (its initial designation) was unfavorable did 
not matter. For by September it had attracted 
enough attention for Sidney Tillim to write that it 
was the "most talked-about art movement of the 
moment." 1^^ 

The coalescence of this art into a definable 
movement was ensured by "The New Realists" ex- 
hibition, mounted by the Sidney Janis Gallery m 
the fall of 1962.^'^"^ Janis' stature in the art world 
was sufficiently unassailable that his prescient as- 

Fig. 117. Roy Lichtenstein, Bhim, 1962. Oil on canvas, 
68 X 80" (172.7 x 203.2 cm). Collection of Richard Brown 
Baker, on loan to the Yale University Art Gallery, New Haven. 

86 Pup Art 


Fig. 118. Roy Lichtenstein, Emeralds, 1961. Oil on canvas, 
67% X 67%" (171.8 X 171.1 cm). Private collection. 

Fig. 119. Rt)y Lichtenstein, Masterpiece, 1962. Oil on canvas, 
54 X 54" (137.2 x 137.2 cm). Collection of Agnes Gund. 

sertion — these artists "may already have proved to 
be the pacemaker|s] of the 60s" — v^as not easily dis- 
missed. ^'^° Janis' gallery w^as too small to accommo- 
date the show, and he w^as forced to open a second- 
ary space in a ground-floor storefront on Fifty- 
Seventh Street (Fig. 122). Thus by coincidence but 
most fittingly, Pop Art from the beginnmg man- 
aged to bypass the exclusivity of the gallery circuit 
and reach out to a mass audience. 

The exhibition, wrote Harold Rosenberg, "hit the 
New York art world with the force of an earth- 
quake. Within a week tremors had spread to art 
centers throughout the country. . . . There [was] no 
greater aesthetic virtue in copying a de Kooning 
than in copying the design on a beer can."'-*' "The 
point of the Janis show," Thomas Hess explained, 
"was an implicit proclamation that the New had 
arrived and it was time for all the old fogies to 
pack."'"*- Pop Art did indeed appear to throw every- 
thing into shadow. Even Abstract Expressionism 
seemed "wiped out" by Pop Art, as Red Grooms 
later remarked. '"^^^ One unidentified leading mod- 
ernist was quoted at the time as saying, "I feel a 
bit like a follower of Ingres looking at the first 
Monets." I'*'* 

Understandably, such instant notoriety spawned 
detractors among critics and fellow artists. For the 
Abstract Expressionists, Pop artists seemed like 
charlatans, their specious achievement an insult to 
genuine aesthetic values. In response to the instal- 
lation of "The New Realists," all the Abstract Ex- 
pressionists in Jams' gallery except de Kooning re- 
signed. They especially resented the alacrity with 
which Pop Art captured the attention of the art 
world. Having struggled for years before attaining 
success, they viewed the Pop artists as Johnny- 
come-latelies.''*'^ For those who subscribed to the 
myth of the artist as impoverished outsider, Pop 
artists seemed to have capitulated to mainstream 
money. Dine's and Oldenburg's meteoric rise from 
downtown to uptown galleries was regarded, even 
by certain of their peers in the downtown com- 
munity, as traitorous, a symbol of having "sold 

Art critics comprised an even more vociferous 
phalanx of opposition against Pop Art. With the 
exception of a few — such as Gene Swenson and 
Lawrence Alloway — the major critics attacked 
it.'"*'' They especially railed against Pop for its exor- 
cism of metaphor and symbol and its un- 

Fig. 120. Andy Warhol, Twenty-Five Colored Marilyns, 1962. 
Acrylic on canvas, 89 x 69" (226.1 x 175.3 cm). Fort Worth 
Art Museum; The Benjamin f. Tillar Memorial Trust, ac- 
quired from the collection of Vernon Nikkei, Clovis, New 

transformed presentation of subject matter. Ac- 
cording to Peter Selz, curator at The Museum of 
Modern Art, "The interpretation or transformation 
of reaUty achieved by the Pop Artist, insofar as it 
exists at all, is limp and unconvincing. It is this 
want of imagination, this passive acceptance of 
things as they are that make these pictures so un- 
satisfactory at second or third look. They are 
hardly worth the kind of contemplation a real work 
of art demands." ^'**^ 

Equally rich as a source of critical abuse was Pop 
Art's vernacular subject matter. Lichtenstein's 
statement that "the one thing everyone hated was 
commercial art" was all too true.^'*'-' The intellec- 
tual snobbery which prevailed in Abstract Expres- 
sionist circles could not abide such overt traffick- 
ing in philistine culture. Already in 1936 Clement 
Greenberg, one of Abstract Expressionism's best- 
known defenders, had denounced kitsch, which he 
likened to "ersatz culture . . . destined for those 

Pop Art 87 

who |arel insensible to the values of genuine 
culture. . . ."'''° Pop Art's refusal to pass judgment 
on its ostensibly debased subject matter only 
fueled critics' consternation. Max Kozloff's reac- 
tion was typical: "There is a moral dilemma im- 
plicit in these latest vulgarities. . . . Are we sup- 
posed to regard our popular signboard culture with 
greater fondness or insight now that we have 
Rosenquist? Or is he exhorting us to revile it. . . . If 
the first, the intent is pathological, and if the sec- 
ond, dull." 1^1 

The hostility these critics felt toward Pop Art 
must be seen against the background of the politi- 
cal climate of the 1930s and 1940s. Many of the 
leading proponents of Abstract Expressionism had 
been partisans of left-wing politics in the thirties. 
Following the disenchantment with Communism 
occasioned by the Moscow trials of 1936-38 and 
the Russo-German non-aggression pact of 1939, the 
art community entered an era of anti-Stalinism 
and de-politicalization. In this context, represen- 
tational art, particularly that with a nationalist 

Fig. 121. Andy Warhol, White Burning Car II, 1963. Silk- 
screen on canvas, 106 x 82" (269.2 x 208.3 cm). Hessisches 
Landesmuseum, Darmstadt; Karl Stroher Collection. 

88 Pop Art 

Fig. 122. Installation views of "The New Realists" exhibition at the Sidney Jams Gallery, New York, 1962. 

character, was viewed as a propaganda tool of 
totalitarianism. Abstract art, on the other hand — 
specifically Abstract Expressionism — was wel- 
comed as politically neutral and associated with 
freedom and internationalism.'''^ To the advocates 
of Abstract Expressionism, Pop Art's representa- 
tional style and its blatant American subject mat- 
ter seemed to hark back to the socialist art of the 
thirties which they had so fiercely repudiated. 

The banality of Pop Art's imagery violated as 
well the mythic and heroic dimension which had 
come to be associated with art in the 1950s. The 
notion of art as a lofty, moral enterprise, identified 
with abstract levels of truth, had been implicit 
among the Abstract Expressionists, who had prided 
themselves on their psychic distance from the 
vagaries of vernacular life. Mark Rothko and Ado- 
Iph Gottlieb had avowed that "only that subject- 
matter is valid which is tragic and timeless."''''^ For 
them, art was serious, remote, and "aristocratic"; 
that it remained ineffable and beyond the under- 
standing of all but a small coterie of initiates only 
confirmed its specialness. Appropriating the mun- 
dane without apparent transformation undermined 
the mystery of art; it seemed to demythologize art 
and desanctify the artist. Artists and their suppor- 
ters became ordinary citizens, no longer members 
of a select intelligentsia. In retrospect, this "de- 
mocratizing" may have been one of Pop Art's most 
problematic aspects for the general public, which 
viewed fine art as embodying some mysterious 
and secret knowledge; many were suspicious 

Pop Art 89 

of an art whose imagery mirrored their daily lives. 

The vehement rejection of Pop by the critics cre- 
ated a radical reversal of roles, for it was left to the 
public, the galleries, and the popular press to take 
the lead in promoting Pop Art. Major articles on 
Pop appeared in periodicals such as Life and Time 
as soon as they did in art journals. A new type of 
collector emerged, as eager in some cases to em- 
brace the artists' life-style as their art. Given the 
critical community's loss of credibility, these col- 
lectors turned to gallery dealers for aesthetic val- 
idation. Sidney lanis, Leo Castelli, and Richard 
Bellamy, among others, replaced critics as aesthetic 
arbiters. By the time critics caught up with the 
public's enthusiasm, the promotion of Pop was no 
longer an issue. 

The mass popularity of the new art precipitated a 
subtle shift in the role and expectations of artists: 
works of art were heralded almost as soon as they 
were produced; artists achieved renown and finan- 
cial success at remarkably young ages. Johns had 
set the example, being only twenty-eight when his 
first one-man exhibition sold out; his achievement 
was duplicated by this new generation of artists. 
Culturally, as Kaprow had feared for the Happening 
makers (p. 46), artists moved from being outsiders 
to insiders, from proverbially impoverished cre- 
ators working on the fringes of society to newfound 
darlings of the jet set and high society. This altered 
relationship between art and society was to be one 
of the lasting legacies of this period. 


The same dissatisfaction with unbridled subjec- 
tivity and emotionalism that inspired Pop Art, 
Fluxus, and the new dance prevailed among the 
group of artists who worked within the tradition of 
geometric abstraction. This tradition had been sus- 
tained throughout the heyday of Abstract Expres- 
sionism by a small, less visible group of artists, 
including Ad Reinhardt, Joseph Albers, Ellsworth 
Kelly, Ralston Crawford, and George Ortman. It 
had found additional expression during the 1950s 
in the work of the Chromatic Abstractionists — 
Barnett Newman and Mark Rothko, among oth- 
ers — whose spare forms and broad color areas ex- 
erted a profound influence on younger artists.''''* 
Still, the essentially mystical tone of the Chro- 
matic Abstractionists and their commitment to art 
as a form of moral statement separated them from 
their emulators, who adapted their geometric style 
for less metaphysical ends. 

The first artist to accept geometric abstraction 
but abrogate its subjectivity and metaphorical aspi- 
rations was Frank Stella. In 1958, directly after 
graduating from Princeton University, Stella began 
a series of paintings in which he replaced the loose 
forms and gestural brushstrokes of his earlier Ac- 
tion Painting with an increasingly anonymous, 
geometric structure and impersonal facture (Figs. 
123, 124). A year later, when his Black paintings 
were included in The Museum of Modern Art's 
"Sixteen Americans" exhibition, their seemingly 
mindless configurations and detached execution 
stunned and baffled most viewers (Fig. 125). The 
charges flung against them — that they were boring 
and monotonous; that anyone could do them — 
were the same as those that greeted Pop Art.''''" 

Yet, as with the earliest manifestations of Pop, 
what looked impersonal and emotionless in the 
context of the late 1950s now seems rich and al- 
most loosely painted, with manifold variations in 
surface handling and edge. In retrospect, the dark 
palette and iconic presence of these paintings radi- 
ate an almost religious aura, which William Rubin 

Opposite: Fig. 123. Frank Stella, Coney Island, 1958. Oil on 
canvas, 85'/4 x 78%" (216.5 x 200 cm). Yale University Art 
Gallery, New Haven; Gift of Larom B. Munson, B.A. 1951. 

Fig. 124. Frank Stella, Delta, 1958. Enamel on canvas, 85% x 
97" (216.8 X 246.4 cm). Collection of the artist. 

hinted at in 1960 when he wrote of being "mes- 
merized by their eerie, magical presence." '^'^ Even 
the titles Stella ascribed — alluding to death, fas- 
cism, and the urban underworld — belie the strictly 
formal explanations of the paintings that he ini- 
tially offered. 157 

As Stella's work evolved, the edges of his color 
bands became more regular and his surfaces 
"harder." But never did the physical act of painting 
cease being important to him. "When I'm painting 
the picture," he explained, "I'm really painting a 
picture. . . . The thrill, or the meat of the thing, is 
the actual painting. I don't get any thrill out of 
laying it out. ... I like the painting part, even when 
it's difficult. It's that which seems most worth- 
while to address myself to."'"'*^ 

But the absence of painterly gesture and the com- 
monplace geometric patterns of Stella's work de- 
fied any imputation of subjectivity and private 
symbolic meaning, much as did Pop Art's quasi- 
mechanical replication of found public images. 
Warhol said he wanted to be a machine; Stella, ap- 
parently contradicting himself, said it was enough 
for him to have a good idea; he would be just as 
happy if someone else, or a machine, made his pic- 
tures according to his specifications.''''^ He denied 
that his paintings carried references to anything 


92 Mininuilisin 

Fig. 125. Frank Stella, Die Fahne Hoch, 1959. Black enamel 
on canvas, \llVi x 73" (308.6 x 185.4 cm). Whitney 
Museum of American Art, New York; Gift of Mr. and Mrs. 
Eugene M. Schwartz and purchase through the generosity of 
the John I. H. Baur Purchase Fund, Charles and Anita Blatt 
Fund, Peter M. Brant, B. H. Friedman, Gilman Foundation, 
Inc., Susan Morse Hilles, The Lauder Foundation, Frances 
and Sydney Lewis, Albert A. List Fund, National Endowment 
for the Arts, Sandra Payson, Philip Morris Incorporated, Mr. 
and Mrs. Albrecht Saalfield, Mrs. Percy Uris and Warner 
Communications Inc. 75.22. 

beyond their own palpable physical reality. There 
"aren't any particularly poetic or mysterious 
qualities [in the Stripe paintings]," he asserted. '^'^ 
"My painting is based on the fact that only what 
can be seen there is there. . . . What you see is what 
you see.""^' Since Stella's paintings were not rec- 
ords of inner psychological states, no special 
knowledge was required to decipher them; because 
their meaning lay in the material surface of the 
painting, it was theoretically available to everyone. 
As with the Pop painters, it was Johns who pro- 
vided the structural model for Stella's radical cri- 
tique of Abstract Expressionism. By painting a flat 
subject and making that painting identical with its 
format, Johns had eliminated the sense of a shape 
on a background and thus any reference to three- 
dimensional spatiality (Fig. 104). Whereas the Pop 
artists found in Johns the license to commandeer 
two-dimensional imagery, Stella was inspired by 
his abstract formal strategies. He covered the entire 
canvas with a single motif, thereby eliminating all 
sense of foreground and background. He thus dupli- 
cated Johns' flat surface, but removed all asso- 
ciative meaning by abandoning recognizable imag- 
ery. Adopting the structure of Johns' flags — their 
repetitive stripes and bands parallel to the framing 
edge — Stella conflated the external shape of the 
painting with its internal motif or surface pattern. 
The result was so totally divested of extrapictorial 
significance that it seemed to be more an object in 
itself than a painting, an effect enhanced by Stella's 

Fig. 126. Installation view of 
Frank Stella's one-artist ex- 
hibition at the Leo Castelli 
Gallery, New York, 1964. 

Minimalism 93 

■ ■ ">■-■■ V - 

Fig. 127. Donald ludd, iJntillcd, ivoi. Li^ht cadmiLim red oil and wax on liquitcx and sand tm masonitc and wond, v\ath 
aluminum and black oil on wood, 48 x 96 x 7Vi" (122 x 243.8 x 19 cm). Private collection. 

three-inch-wide stretcher bars. This painting-ob- 
ject was as palpably present as anything else in the 
viewer's space. The object-like quality became 
even more pronounced in Stella's work after 1961, 
especially in his Copper and Purple series, where 
traditional rectangles gave way to polygons or radi- 
cally shaped perimeters (Fig. 126). 

It was the bold, immediate impact of Stella's 
paintings that attracted Donald Judd and Carl An- 
dre, who were fascinated by the "objectness" of his 
work and its implications for sculpture. ^''^ Stella's 
influence on Andre, who was a close personal 
friend, was more visual than theoretical. For a time 
in the early 1960s, Andre worked in Stella's studio, 
turning the notched corners and zigzag patterns of 
Stella's paintings into sculptural equivalents. The 
original versions of most of these sculptures were 
later burned as firewood when Andre left them be- 
hind after one of his frequent moves. Not until 
1964, when he was asked to participate in a show at 
The Hudson River Museum, did Andre rebuild any 
of them. Other of Andre's Minimalist works from 
this period existed only as drawings or as small 
models until the early seventies; at this time he 
began executing earlier designs, probably on larger 
scales than had originally been envisaged. 

Judd's relationship to Stella's work was based on 

the adamant objection both artists had to the Euro- 
pean compositional formula of balancing one part 
of the painting or sculpture against another."''^ 
While still a painter, Judd had begun embedding 
found objects into his encrusted paint surfaces 
(Figs. 127, 128). These interpolated objects were ab- 
stract, but they functioned like the found objects in 
assemblage, eliminating painted illusionism by 
providing an image that was actual rather than de- 
picted. In 1962, after having spent eight years as a 
painter, Judd turned to sculpture because of the in- 
herent limitations he perceived in painting (Figs. 
129, 130)."'''^ Painting seemed incapable of satisfy- 
ing his desire for more rigorous, non-illusionistic 
concreteness. With real space, he was able to rid his 
art of the illusionistic deceit he saw as endemic to 
painting, while simultaneously achieving a phys- 
ical presence not possible in painting. "Actual 
space," he explained, "is intrinsically more power- 
ful and specific than paint on a flat surface." '^'^ Be- 
cause Judd placed a high premium on the impact of 
indivisible images, he turned, as had Stella, to sym- 
metry and modular repetition. This allowed him to 
circumvent the balancing of separate composi- 
tional elements. Like others of his generation, Judd 
denied the existence of symbolic meaning or of a 
higher reality in his sculpture. He repudiated any 

94 Mininialisni 

Fig. 128. Donald fudd, Untitled, 1962. 
Light cadmium red oil on liquitex and 
sand on masonite with yellow Plex- 
iglas, 48 X 96 x IVi" (121.9 x 243.8 
X 6.4 cm). Private collection. 

Fig. 129. Installation view of Donald ludd's one-artist exhibition at the Green Gallery, New York, 1963-64. 

significance save the sculpture's own obdurate 
"thereness." Asked once what he considered art to 
be about, Judd answered, "about what I know." "'''^ 
Such insistence on the tangible and concrete was 
one of the major themes of the avant-garde of the 
1960s. '-'^ In contrast to Abstract Expressionists, 
these artists put greater faith in the truth of con- 

crete facts than in the abstract theories which gave 
these facts cohesion and supposed clarity. The Pop 
artists, Fluxus, and dance practitioners had in- 
jected into their work the palpable artifacts and 
gestures of the outside world. As Rauschenberg 
said when he attached real objects to canvases, "I 
don't want a picture to look like something it isn't. 

Minimalism 95 

I want it to look like something it is."""'" So too 
with the Pop Art media painters whose work was 
synonymous with what it represented: "It doesn't 
look like a painting of something/' Lichtenstein 
remarked, "it looks like the thing itself." '^^'^ Mini- 
malists such as Judd and Stella attained a similar 
objectivity by eschewing all aesthetic deception 
and illusionism, and insisting on the obdurate 
physical presence of their objects. No discrepancy 
existed in their work between what the eye regis- 
tered and what was actually there. If an image sug- 
gested three dimensions, it was created in three 
dimensions; shapes were not depicted, they were 
real; for Judd, even color was intrinsic to the mate- 
rial, rather than something applied to the surface. 
Judd's predominantly plywood works from 1961 
and 1962 were executed according to pragmatic 
construction considerations. Not being a skilled 
carpenter, he often kept his materials raw and un- 
sanded. The result was a "soft" surface and a more 
handmade look than he later obtained when he be- 
came more rigorous about mechanical exactness 
and refinement. In late 1963, improved finances al- 
lowed him to turn to metal and to employ outside 
fabricators. He also began to organize his pieces 
into units of equal size separated by either equidis- 
tant or mathematically based intervals (Fig. 131). 
(The connection between music and Minimalist 
sculpture, already noted in the works of La Monte 
Young and Fluxus artists [p. 67], existed for Judd as 
well; for his attraction to pre-existing mathemat- 
ical systems as the structural bases for his com- 
positions had its analogue in the work of musicians 
hke Milton Babbitt.) 

The artist closest in spirit to Judd was Dan Flavin. 
Flavin's early Cubist-derived collages made from 
crushed tin cans were exhibited at the Judson Gal- 
lery in 1961 (Fig. 132). These were followed by 
works such as Gus Schultze's screwdriver (to Dick 
Bellamy) and Barbara Roses, whose single-image 
format recalled the pre-Pop assemblages of Olden- 
burg and Dine (Figs. 133, 134). Even after he began 
to structure light bulbs and fluorescent tubes into 
severe compositional arrangements (Fig. 135), Fla- 
vin's motivations remained consistent with found- 
object art. What differentiated these later works 
was his rejection of the gestural conceits of Ab- 
stract Expressionism. The banality and un- 

Fig. 130. Donald ludd, Unlillcd, 1962. Li,i;ht cadmium red inl 
on wood with black enameled metal pipe, 48 x iSVn x 21 W 
(121.9 X 84 X 54.6 cm). Kunstmuseum Basel. 




Fig. 131. Donald Judd, Untitled, 1963. Light cadmium red oil 
on wood, 19'/2 X 45 x iOVi" (49.5 x 114.3 x 77.5 cm). The 
National Gallery of Canada, Ottawa. 

96 Minimalism 




Fig. 132. Dan Flavin, Africa (to seventy-two negroes], 
1960. Crushed can, oil, pencil, on masonite and balsa, 
19 X 22 X V/»" (48.3 x 55.9 x 4.8 cm). Collection of 
the artist. 

Fig. 133. Dan Flavin, Gus Schultze's screwdriver {to 
Dick Bellamy), 1960. Screwdriver, oil, pencil, on mas- 
onite, and acrylic on balsa, 15% x MVi x VA" 
(39.1 X 44.5 X 4.5 cm). Collection of the artist. 

Fig. 134. Dan Flavin, Barbara Roses, 1962-64. Ter- 
racotta flower pot, porcelain receptacle with pull 
chain, and Aerolux Flowerlite, 8V2" (21.6 cm) tall. 
Collection of Barbara Rose. 

transformed character of Flavin's sculptural mate- 
rials linked his work to that of Brecht and the Pop 
artists. In each case, commercial materials ap- 
peared in their hard-edged, industrially reproduced 
form, unmediated by the personality of the artist. 
Because Flavin, like Judd, was interested in the 
power of simple geometries, he exploited the idea 
of the ready-made for structural rather than nar- 
rative ends.'^" Still, the common, public nature of 
his component materials, like the pedestrian sub- 
jects of the Pop artists, undermined the conception 
of art as a rarefied domain. Since Flavin's sculp- 
tures could theoretically be reproduced by anyone 
with access to a hardware store, they, even more 
than Pop, confounded the distinction between art 
and life. A light tube attached diagonally on a wall 
looks more like an ordinary object than like any- 
thing previously known as sculpture (Fig. 136). Fla- 
vin viewed the change of context his industrial ma- 
terials underwent as a change of character. His 
assertion that "a common lamp becomes a com- 
mon industrial fetish, as utterly reproducible as 
ever but somehow strikingly unfamiliar now" 
sounds remarkably like the Fluxus artists' implicit 
affirmation of the fundamental worth to be found 

Fig. 135. Dan Flavin, icon V (Goran's Broadway Flesh), 1962. 
Oil on masonite, porcelain receptacles, clear incandescent 
candle bulbs, 42'/8 x 42'/8 x 978" (107 x 107 x 25.1 cm). 
Collection of Heiner Friedrich. 

Minimalism 97 

Fig. 136. Installation view of Dan Flavin's one-artist exhibition at the Green Gallery, New York, 1964. 

98 Minimalism 




Fig. 13X. Walter De Maria, Boxes for Meaningless Work, 1961. 
Wood box: 9% x 13^16 x 18" (24.4 x 33.5 x 45.7 cm); wood 
base: 4'/h x 4 x 24" (10.5 x 10.2 x 61 cm); Inscribed in pen- 
cil on base: BOXES FOR meaningless work, transfer things 

INGLESS. Collection of the artist. 

Fig. 137. Walter De Maria, Walk Around the Box, 1961. 
Wood box: 15 x 13 x 13" (38.1 x 33 x 33 cm); oil painting: 
49'/2 X 24" (125.7 x 61 cm). Collection of the artist. 


I will have built two small boxes. 
I put small things in the boxes, 
A sign explains the boxes to any- 
one who should approach them. 
lt5ays"Meaningle5S work boxes." 
Throw all of the things into one 
box, then throw all of the things 
into the other. Back and forth, 
back and forth. Do this for as long 
as you like. What do you feel? 
Yourself? The Box? The Things? 
Remember this doesn't mean any- 

'^'"'' March, 196(1 

Fig. 139. Walter De Maria, "Proiect for Boxes; Boxes for 
Meaningless Work," originally printed in An Anthology, 1962. 

in the seeming triviality of everyday experience. ^^' 
The interconnections betw^een Minimahsm, 
Fluxus, and dance were even more expUcit in the 
case of Walter De Maria and Robert Morris. Their 
close friendships and collaborations with the per- 
forming artists they had known in San Francisco 
grew stronger after their arrival in New York in the 
fall of 1960 (p. 53). When La Monte Young began to 
assemble material for what became An Anthology, 
he asked Morris and De Maria to submit pieces. 
The entries of both artists anticipated much of 
their later sculpture. De Maria's text, "Meaningless 
Work/' concerned "pure" activities having no con- 
nection with utilitarian function. Such activities 
were intentionally neither objects nor events that 
could be bought, sold, or exhibited: their value lay 
solely in the pleasure derived from performing the 

task. The conflation of art and performance be- 
came an essential dimension of De Maria's early 
sculpture. Implicit in pieces such as Walk Around 
the Box (1961), in which viewers walked around, 
stacked, or arranged boxes, or Boxes for Mean- 
ingless Work (1961), which instructed them to 
move a ball from one place to another, was the 
demand for the audience's active participation 
(Figs. 137-39). These pieces resembled Brecht's 
"game sculpture" of the same period (p. 51), al- 
though De Maria preferred a more severe and 
holistic compositional format than that found in 
Brecht's assemblages. The fundamental event ori- 
entation of De Maria's sculpture related as well to 
Yoko Ono's 1960-62 "instruction" pieces such as 
Painting to Be Stepped On or Painting to Hammer 
a Nail In. 

Minimalism 99 

De Maria's exploitation of simple directives 
stripped of all ornamentation or extraneous gesture 
referred also to the dances of Simone Forti and the 
single-gesture Events of the Fluxus artists. In all 
cases, the assignment of uncomplicated, isolated 
tasks structured the action — De Maria merely 
transferred the imperative to act from the desig- 
nated performers to the audience. To accomplish 
this, instructions were written and incorporated 
into the sculpture as key elements. The public, 
comprehensible character of these words should 
theoretically have destroyed any residual private 
significance and made his art accessible to every- 
one. In practice, however, the introduction of 
words, which seemed so foreign to sculpture, made 
De Maria's work difficult for most observers; his 
word pieces were not publicly exhibited in New 
York until 1963, when he opened the 9 Great Jones 
Street Gallery with Robert Whitman.'''- 

The literary-performance aspect of De Maria's 
work was not its only connection to the reductivist 
vocabulary of Fluxus. His unpainted plywood 
boxes of 1960-61, 8 by 4 by 4 feet, pared form down 
to its most elemental (Fig. 140). These sculptures 
were first exhibited in conjunction with a lecture- 
demonstration De Maria gave at Maciunas' AG 
Gallery in July 1961. While structurally similar to 
his game sculptures, the bare simplicity and lack of 
even a literary component imbued these plywood 
rectangles with a monumentality analogous to 
Young's musical compositions in which sequences 
of single notes were sustained for long durations 
without expressive variation of pitch or rhythm. 

The other sculptor who belonged to the coterie 
around Young and the transplanted San Francisco 
dancers was Robert Morris. Morris' experiments 
with reductive forms were no doubt encouraged by 
his construction of the dance props used by his 
wife, Simone — for example, the inclined panel in 
Slant Board (Fig. 64) or the knotted ropes, sus- 
pended from the ceiling, in Hangers (1961). Equally 
important, however, was Morris' translation into 
sculpture of Simone's strategy of generating move- 
ment through task assignments. By adapting her 
device of determining the structure of a composi- 
tion and then letting the process dictate its details, 
Morris could leave certain decisions to chance. 
Thus in Box with the Sound of Its Own Making 
(1961), Morris conceived the concept of taping con- 

Fig. 140. Walter De Maria, 4' ■ 8' Box, 1961. Plywood, 
96 X 48 X 48" (243.8 x 122 x 122 cm). Collection of the 

Fig. 141. Robert Morris, I-Box (open), 1962. Mixed media 
construction, 19 x 12% x 1%" (48.3 x 32.4 x 3.5 cm). 
Collection of Mr. and Mrs. Leo Castelli. 

100 Minimalism 

Fig. 142. Robert Morris, Metered Bulb, 1963. 
Mixed media construction, 24 x 12" (61 x 30.5 
cm). Collection of lasper lohns. 

Fig. 143. Robert Morris, Fountain, 1963. Mixed media con- 
struction, 35'/2 X 13 X 14'/2" (90.2 x 33 x 36.8 cm). Frank- 
furter Kunstverein. 

struction sounds, but allowed the sounds to be 
those that arose naturally in the course of making 
the box. His involvement with process and with 
the witty, Duchampian language puns that were 
popular among the Fluxus group can be seen in 
works such as I-Box, Metered Bulb, and Fountain 
(Figs. 141-43). 

"Blank Form," one of the four word pieces Morris 
prepared for An Anthology, served as a virtual 
manifesto of his reductivist sculpture and of his 
involvement with perceptual questions concerning 
the nature of the art object and its relation to the 
viewer. After suggesting three possible manifesta- 
tions of "blank form" (one of which was "a column 
with perfectly smooth, rectangular surfaces, 2 feet 
by 2 feet by 8 feet, painted gray"), Morris put forth a 
definition of art that hinged on the relationship 
between the viewer and the subject: 

So long as the form (in the broadest possible 
sense: situation) is not reduced beyond percep- 

tion, so long as it perpetuates and upholds itself 
as being object in the subject's field of percep- 
tion, the subject reacts to it in many particular 
ways when I call it art. He reacts in other ways 
when I do not call it art. Art is primarily a situa- 
tion in which one assumes an attitude of react- 
ing to some of one's awareness as art.'''^ 

Although these ideas informed much of Morris' 
subsequent thinking about sculpture, they were 
never made public. As one of Young's close friends 
during this period, Morris had stored the loose 
pages of An Anthology at his loft while they were 
waiting to be bound. Thus, when he became disen- 
chanted with Fluxus after Maciunas launched the 
first series of Fluxus concerts (p. 55), it was easy for 
him to remove his contributions.''''* As a result, his 
word pieces were not bound with the rest of the 
assembled material (Fig. 144). 

Morris pursued the interconnection between 
sculpture and perception in the piece he created for 

Minimalism 101 

Young's concert series at Yoko Ono's loft on Cham- 
bers Street in June 1961. Passageway was a 60-foot- 
long semicircular plywood passageway whose walls 
converged at the end so that viewers who walked 
into it were forced to turn around at some point 
and retrace their steps (Fig. 145). While the object 
itself was static, viewers' experiences of it varied, 
depending on whether they were walking into it for 
the first time — and therefore unaware of what to 
expect — or were walking out. Thus, instead of 
being an ideal, self-contained, unchanging entity, 
the work of art constituted an ever-changing rela- 
tionship between the spectator-participant and 
the object; it had no meaning apart from this 

Morris elaborated the concept of interdepen- 
dence the following January in his dance perfor- 
mance Column, which he gave at The Living The- 
atre as part of an attempt to help Young finance the 
binding of An Anthology. Morris' piece featured a 
light gray plywood rectangle 8 feet tall, 2 feet wide, 
and 2 feet deep — a three-dimensional realization of 
what he had earlier called "Blank Form" (Fig. 146). 
The column stood vertically in the center of the 
stage for three and a half minutes, after which Mor- 
ris pulled it by a string to the floor, where it rested 
horizontally for an equal period of time. In Passage- 
way, the object had remained stationary while the 
viewer's position changed; in Column, the rela- 
tionship was reversed. Morris remained concerned 
with the effect of position or orientation on our 
understanding of sculpture: L-Beams of 1965, for 
example, is predicated on the different meanings 
elicited by units of the same shape and size placed 
in varied positions. By suggesting that the art expe- 
rience had three components — the object, the au- 
dience, and the environment — Morris challenged 
the notion of art as something that could be sepa- 
rated from the dynamics of viewing. 

The "performer" in Column reappeared in Mor- 
ris' work as freestanding sculpture in 1963, when 
he began making what he later termed "unitary 
forms" — gray painted plywood polyhedrons of such 
simple configurations that their totalities or "ge- 
stalts" were immediately apprehensible from any 
position (Fig. 147).'^'' Between Column and these 
uninflected sculptures — exhibited in 1963 at Mor- 
ris' first one-artist show at the Green Gallery — had 
been a group of less refined works, constructed out 


From the subjective point of view there is no such thing as 
nothing - Blank Form shows this, as well as might any other 
situation of deprivation. 

So long as the formdn the broadest possible sense: situation) 
is not reduced beyond perception, so long as it perpetuates 
and upholds itself as being object in the subject's field of per- 
ception, the subject reacts to it in many particular ways when 
I call it art. He reacts in other ways when I do not call it art. 
Art is primarily a situation in which one assumes an attitude 
of reacting to some of one's awareness as art. 

Blank Form is still in the great tradition of artistic weakness- 
taste. That is to say I prefer it - especially the content (as 
opposed to"anti-form"for the attempt to contradict one's taste). 
Blank form is like life, essentially empty, allowing plenty 
of room for disquisitions on its nature and mocking each in its 

Blank Form slowly waves a large gray flag and laughs about 
how close it got to the second law of thermodynamics. 

Some examples of Blank Form sculpture: 

1. A column with perfectly smooth, rectangular surfaces, 2 
feet by 2 feet by 8 feet, painted gray. 

2. A wall, perfectly smooth and painted gray, measuring 2 
feet by 8 feet' by 8 feet. 

3. A cabinet with simple construction, painted gray and meas- 
uring 1 foot by 2 feet by 6 feet - that is, a cabinet just 
large enough to enter. 

Make an object to be lost. 

Put something inside that malces 
a noise and give it to a friend 
with the instructions: 

"To be deposited in the street 
with a toss." 


Fig. 144, Robert Morris, word 
pieces written in 1960-61 for 
An Anthology (1963), deleted 
by the author prior to pub- 

of unpainted timbers (Fig. 148). Morris never ex- 
hibited these formative works and they have since 
been destroyed. 

The concern for non-illusionistic and non-meta- 
phoric concreteness epitomized by the Minimalist 
sculptors found a parallel expression in painting. 
As argued by Clement Greenberg, the goal of the 
modern artist was to eliminate those charac- 
teristics from each medium that were not ex- 
clusive to it. In this view, the three-dimensional 
implications in painting caused by modeling and 
value contrast were in direct conflict with paint- 
ing's essentially flat nature. Following this rea- 
soning, a number of painters in the early sixties. 

102 Minimalism 

Fig. 145. Installation views of Robert Morns' Passageway at Yoko Ono's Chambers Street loft, New York, 1961. Painted 
plywood, 96 x 600" (243.8 x 1524 cm). Destroyed. 

Larry Poons and Jo Baer among them, began to 
eliminate noticeable brushstrokes from their work 
and to adopt simplified, easily read formats. The re- 
sults were textureless, two-dimensional paintings 
whose unambiguous forms, large scale, and often 
bold color provided an unequivocal immediacy of 

Yet the appearance of such reductivist, flat paint- 
ings did not still the debate about whether painting 
could ever be fully non-illusionistic. As Lucy Lip- 
pard wrote, "This is a very literal period. Sculpture, 
existing in real space and physically autonomous, 
is realer than painting." '^^' This attitude implied 
that painting was somehow not as "advanced" as 
sculpture, and it put a number of painters on the 

It was perhaps no accident that in these years many 
artists adopted a self-conscious, theoretical stance, 
for they had received a different education from 
that of their predecessors. Artists in the past had 

learned their craft either through imitation of a 
teacher or by trial and error in the studio. In the 
late fifties, however, large numbers of artists began 
attending college — often to avoid the draft. 
Whereas only one in ten Abstract Expressionists 
held college degrees, most of the artists of the late 
fifties generation did. The conceptual and polem- 
ical origin of sixties art may, in part, be due to the 
academic setting in which these artists were edu- 
cated. As Kaprow said when comparing his genera- 
tion with that of the Abstract Expressionists: "[We] 
went to school. . . . [The fifties] was a time of silent 
alienation and a growing resentment against the 
environment and against the glibness that seemed 
to bring success to everyone else. Muteness was 
seen as proof of one's determination to find another 
solution to the problem of self-realization. My gen- 
eration, which is post-war, had the G.I. Bill, where 
everyone went to school for free. To get through it, 
you had to learn how to speak up."'^*^ 

This new educational pattern nurtured an aes- 

Minim alism 1 03 


Fig. 147. Installation view ot Robert Morns' one-artist exhibition at the Green Gallery, New York, 

Fig. 146. Robert Morris, 
Column, 1961. Painted 
plywood, 96 X 24 X 24" 
(243.8 X 61 X 61 cm). 
Original destroyed. 
Photograph from a recon- 
struction at Ace Los 
Angeles gallery, 1973. 

thetic intellectualism which was mirrored in the 
critical community by strong formaUst rhetoric. 
Both Pop Art and Mmimahsm fell prey to this 
mode of critical interpretation. Critics such as 
Robert Rosenblum and Irving Sandler early on had 
recognized the formal similarities between Pop Art 
and Minimalist painting. ^^^ By the late sixties, Pop 
Art had come increasingly to be described, not in 
terms of its subject matter, but in terms of its for- 
mal properties — single-image format, hard edges, 
and a heightened sense of visual immediacy. Indeed 
it was the mutual possession of these formal char- 
acteristics among the various art forms of the six- 
ties that served to give the decade its appearance of 
homogeneity. '^° 

Fig. 148. Robert Morris, Pme Portal, c. 1961. Wood, 
96 X 48 X 12" (243.8 x 121.9 x 30.5 cm). Destroyed. 

Fig. 149. Claes Oldenburg, Light Switches—Hard Version, 1964. Painted wood, formica, metal, 47Vi x 47% x IVA" 
(121.3 X 121.3 X 29.8 cm). Private collection. 

By the beginning of 1964, the evolution of this new 
sensibility was complete. In the six preceding 
years, the issues that were to mobilize artists for 
the next two decades were formulated in an intense 
and frenetic atmosphere. During this time the new 
art had fought with, and ultimately supplanted, the 
old. In the first stage of change, the work of the 
challengers remained stylistically, if not emo- 
tionally, linked to that of their ancestors: junk as- 
semblage. Happenings, and the expressive phase of 
Pop Art initially retained the spontaneity and sur- 
face gestures of Abstract Expressionism. Even the 
Minimalists and Pop Art media painters produced 
work during this formative period which, in retro- 
spect, seems tentative and handmade. 

But by the end of 1963, a new aesthetic could be 
clearly perceived, an aesthetic that encompassed 
both Pop and Minimalism. As Minimalism came 
to the forefront of public attention with the exhibi- 
tions of Judd, Morris, and Flavin, Pop Art became 
more cool and detached, with sharply edged forms 
and non-textured surfaces. At the end of 1963, for 
example, in preparation for a show with Sidney 

Janis, Oldenburg exchanged the lumpy, paint-splat- 
tered commodities from The Store for objects hav- 
ing hard surfaces and clean contours (Figs. 149, 
150). His concurrent decision to replace plaster and 
canvas with synthetic vinyl further heightened the 
contrast with his earlier, painterly style (Fig. 151). 
Warhol became preoccupied at this time with films 
such as Sleep, in which single events occurred in 
real time.'**^ 

In 1963, Wesselmann moved from collaging two- 
dimensional magazine reproductions to incor- 
porating full-scale, complete objects into his work 
(Fig. 94). In keeping with the requirements of a 
more assertive scale, his painted images became 
larger and their edges crisper. By 1964, he, too, had 
brought a greater degree of restraint to his pre- 
viously sensuous compositions (Fig. 152). In Rosen- 
quist's paintings, there was a gradual but steady 
evolution from the dark tones and heavy paint sur- 
face of early works to the graduated tones and de- 
finitive contours of those after 1963 (Fig. 153). And 
Lichtenstein, for his part, purchased an opaque pro- 
jector in late 1963 which allowed him to work with 

Fig. 150. Claes Oldenburg's installation Bedroom Ensemble, first presented in fuui Environments by Four New Realists" 
at the Sidney Janis Gallery, New York, 1964. Wood, vinyl, metal, fake fur, and other materials in room, 204 x 252" 
(518.2 X 640.1 cm). The National Gallery of Canada, Ottawa. 


1 06 Epilogue 

Fig. 151. Claes Oldenburg, Soft Pay-Telephone, 1963. Vinyl 
filled with kapok mounted on painted wood panel, 46Vi x 
19 X 9" (118.1 X 48.3 x 22.9 cm). The Solomon R. Guggen- 
heim Museum, New York; Gift of Ruth and Philip Zierler 
in memory of their dear departed son, William S. Zierler. 


Fig. 152. Tom Wesselmann, Interior #4, 1964. Acrylic, 
polished metal, and assemblage (including working fluores- 
cent light, clock, and radio) on board, 66 x 54 x 9" 
(167.6 X 137.2 X 22.9 cm). Private collection. 

preparatory sketches, projecting finished images 
onto the canvas rather than sketching them m free- 
hand. His adoption in late 1963 of a Ben-Day dot 
screen meant that the uneven and varied quality of 
his earlier, hand-drawn dots was supplanted by reg- 
ularly spaced ones which gave his paintings a me- 
chanical and commercial aspect only simulated 
earlier (Fig. 154). Because the dots were larger, they 
assumed greater prominence as abstract patterns^ — 
a feature Lichtenstein exploited by juxtaposing 
areas of them with areas of flat paint. In the pro- 
cess, his compositions became more stylized and 
complex. Eventually he drifted away from popular 
images; after 1964 he imposed a comic-book style 
on more traditionally "fine art" subjects — land- 
scapes, architecture, and historic art styles (Fig. 
156). Minimalism too became crisper, its execution 
more impersonal after 1964, as ludd, Morris, and 
De Maria began to have their designs executed by a 
fabricator, thereby eliminating the handmade look 
and soft-wood surface of their earlier achievements 
(Fig. 155). 

As the decade wore on. Minimalism was to exert 
an even more profound influence on contemporary 
aesthetics. After 1964, a host of other artists — Sol 
LeWitt, Ronald Bladen, and Robert Grosvenor, 
among them — began to simplify their Con- 
structivist-derived sculptures into modular or uni- 
tary forms. By the time Kynaston McShine's "Pri- 
mary Structures" exhibition opened at The lewish 
Museum in 1966, Minimalist sculpture had be- 
come a firmly established mode of expression. The 
same held true for painting. By 1965, Robert Man- 
gold had replaced his biomorphic vocabulary with 
more hard-edged, geometric forms, while Robert 
Ryman had substituted flatly painted surfaces con- 
taining little inflection for the gestural brush- 
strokes of earlier years. Their reductivist style be- 
came the decade's dominant aesthetic. 

Finally, by the beginning of 1964, the impetus 
that had brought the performing art groups to- 
gether began to change, lust as college students 
move in different directions after graduation, the 
artists who had made up Fluxus and the Judson 

Epilogue 107 

Fig. 153. James Rosenquist, Lanai, 1964. Oil on canvas, 62 x 186" (157.5 x 472.4 cm). Collection of Kimiko and John Powers, 

Fig. 154. Roy Lichtenstein, Blonde Waiting, 1964. Magna on canvas, 48 x 48" (121.9 x 121.9 cm). Private 

108 Epilogue 

Fig. 155. Donald Judd, Tu Susciii Buckwalter, 1964. Blue lacquer on alummum and galvanized iron, 30 x 141 x 30" 
(76.2 X 358.2 x 76.2 cm). Collection of the artist. 

Dance Theater began to cultivate more individual 
mannerisms. Rauschenberg's entry into the dance 
scene in late 1963 had brought with it an entirely 
new and expanded audience. With the prospect of 
fame, petty jealousies and competitiveness came to 
the surface. Individual dancers started to splinter 
off and perform on their own, in the process sever- 
ing the group's cohesion. 

Fluxus' first official United States concert in 
1964, under Maciunas' implicit leadership, signaled 
the departure of artists from the organization and 
the end of the open camaraderie of earlier days 
(p. 53). As Fluxus artist Tomas Schmit later noted 
of the years before 1964: "those were the days, 
days, in which artists gathered instead of sepa- 
rating themselves from each other. . . . soon after 
Maciunas left for New York again, it started to 
fade away. . . ."'*^- 

In 1958, all the artists involved with Happenings, 
Fluxus, Pop Art, the New American Dance, and 
Minimalism had been unknown. By 1964, with the 
exception of those exclusively in Fluxus, they had 
attained international renown. The approbation 
which attended the Rauschenberg and Johns retro- 
spectives at The Jewish Museum in 1963 and 1964, 
and the 1964 Venice Biennale's award of first prize 
to Rauschenberg were but a few signs that the new 
aesthetic was firmly established. It had already be- 
come the place from which another generation 
would extend and against which, ultimately, it 
would react. 

Fig. 156. Roy Lichtenstein, Kiss with Cloud, 1964. Oil and 
magna on canvas, 60 x 60" (152.4 x 152.4 cm). Collection of 
Irving Blum. 


1. Yvonne Rainer, Work 1961-73 (Halifax: The Press of tlie Nova 
Scotia College of Art and Design, and New York: New York Univer- 
sity Press, 1974), p. 8. 

2. Alan Solomon's New York: The Second Breakthrough, 
1959-1964, exhibition catalogue (Irvine, California: Art Gallery, 
University of California, Irvine, 1969) covered these years but dealt 
with only ten artists. Solomon excluded Minimalism (with the 
exception of Stella) and the performance arts. 

3. The essay excludes artists active during this period who entered 
the art scene after these years as well as those who entered before, 
as did Ellsworth Kelly and Kenneth Noland. It also excludes the art 
of certain other ma)or American artists — for the most part figur- 
ative painters and California Pop and assemblage artists — whose 
work came to maturity at this time but who did not significantly 
contribute to the development of the vanguard aesthetic which 
came to dominate the later 1960s. For example, California as- 
semblagists Ed Kienholz and George Herms, and Pop artists Ed 
Ruscha and loe Goode remained linked to the Surrealist tradition; 
their work, therefore, while outstanding on its own terms, did not 
break radically from the past. This was true as well for the figur- 
ative artists. Although painters such as Philip Pearlstein and Alex 
Katz shared a desire to invigorate art with references to everyday 
life, they accomplished this primarily by relying on earlier pictorial 
conventions rather than on those that came to be identified with 
sixties modernism. 

4. See Donald ludd, "Local History," in Arts Yearbook 7: New York: 
The Art World, ed. |ames R. Mellow (New York: The Art Digest, 
1964), p. 26. 

5. E. M. Forster, Howards End (New York: Vintage Books, 1921), 
p. 106. 

6. Harold Rosenberg, "The American Action Painters," Art News, 
51 (December 1952), p. 23. 

7. Walter De Maria, conversation with the author, June 30, 1983. 

8. Irving H. Sandler, "Is There a New Academy?," Art News, 58 
(Summer 1959), pp. 34-37, 58-59; "Is There a New Academy? Part 
II," ibid. (September 1959), pp. 36-39, 58-60. 

9. Quoted in Sandler, "Is There a New Academy? Part II," p. 37. 

10. Quoted in John Rublowsky, Pop Art (New York: Basic Books, 
1965), p. 136; and Tom Wesselmann, conversation with the author, 
September 30, 1983. 

1 1 . John Coplans, "An Interview with Roy Lichtenstein, " Art forum, 
1 (Qctober 1963), p. 31. 

12. Quoted in Sandler, "Is There a New Academy? Part II," p. 60. 

13. George Segal, conversation with the author, July 7, 1983. 

14. The word "assemblage" was coined by Jean Dubuffet in 1953 to 
refer to his new pasted constructions. For a history of assemblage, 
see William C. Seitz, The Art of Assemblage, exhibition catalogue 
(New York: The Museum of Modern Art, 1961). 

15. For a more complete discussion of Rauschenberg and his work, 
see Calvin Tomkins, Off the Wall: Robert Rauschenberg and the 
Art World of Our Time (Garden City, New York: Doubleday, 1980); 
and Lawrence Alloway, "Rauschenberg's Development," in Robert 
Rauschenberg, exhibition catalogue (Washington, D.C.: National 
Collection of Fine Arts, Smithsonian Institution, 1976), pp. 3-23. 

16. Ivan Karp, conversation with the author, June 23, 1983. 

17. Allan Kaprow, "The Legacy of Jackson Pollock," Art News, 57 
(October 1958), pp. 24-26, 55-57. 

18. Kaprow, ibid., pp. 56-57. 

19. It was Kaprow's interest in electronic music that led him to 
enroll in John Cage's class on composition at the New School for 
Social Research, an experience that was to have a great influence on 
his work. 

20. "Trend to the 'Anti-Art,' " Newsweek, 51 (March 31, 1958), pp. 
94, 96. 

21. "New Talent in the U.S.A. 1959," Art w America, 47, no. 1 

22. Quoted in Jan Van der Marck, George Segal (New York: Harry 
N. Abrams, 1975), p. 21. 

23. That the Hansa Gallery's three youngest members — Kaprow, 
Whitman, and Segal — were later involved with Happenings under- 
scores the direct evolution from assemblage to Happenings; from 
"found-object" to "found-movement" art. The subsequent transi- 
tion to Pop or "found-image" art is exemplified by Segal's career and 
the fact that Karp and Bellamy moved from supporting assemblage 
to supporting Pop Art — Karp through his directorship of the Leo 
Castelli Gallery and Bellamy through his Green Gallery, which 
showcased Pop and Minimalist art during its five years of existence 
from 1960 to 1965. 

24. The Hansa Gallery numbered between ten and fifteen artists, 
all of whom paid dues ranging from ten dollars to thirty dollars a 
month. Originally located in a third-floor walk-up on Twelfth 
Street in Greenwich Village, it moved to a brownstone on Central 
Park South in 1954. For a further history of the Hansa Gallery, see 
Joellen Bard, Tenth Street Days: The Co-ops of the SO's, exhibition 
catalogue (New York: Pleiades Gallery and The Association of Art- 
ist-Run Galleries, 1977); and Amy Goldin, "Requiem for a Gallery," 
Arts Magazme, 40 (January 1966), pp. 25-29. 

25. Karp, conversation with the author, lune 23, 1983. 

26. Ibid. 

27. The Judson Memorial Church had begun including artists in its 
program in 1957, under the influence of Reverend Howard Moody, 
who had become minister of the church the year before. After infor- 
mal discussions with local artists. Moody and Bud Scott deter- 
mined that the best service the church could render to the local 
artistic community would be to make gallery space available free of 
charge. The first show, which presented the work of Helen Shulik, 
took place in November 1958 in what was then called the Judson 
Studio. The studio was located in the basement, below the church's 
student housing. The name changed to the Judson Gallery in Febru- 
ary 1959. For a year, beginning in December 1959, Kaprow served as 
the unofficial gallery director. After Al Carmines succeeded Scott 
as assistant minister in 1960, other features were added to the art, 
music, and film program: the literary magazine Exodus, the Hall of 
Issues, the Judson Poet's Theater, and the Judson Dance Theater. 

28. For a discussion of the Reuben Gallery, see Lawrence Alloway, 
"The Reuben Gallery: A Chronology" (1965), reprinted in Alloway, 
Topics in American Art Smce 1945 (New York: W. W. Norton, 
1975), pp. 151-54. 

29. From an interview with Robert Pincus-Witten in 1963; quoted 
in Barbara Rose, Claes Oldenburg, exhibition catalogue (New York: 
The Museum of Modern Art, and Greenwich, Connecticut: New 
York Graphic Society, 1970), p. 37. 


110 Notes 

30. Red Grooms, conversation with the author, lune 30, 1983; and 
Walter De Maria, conversation with the author, June 30, 1983. 

31. For a discussion of the relationship between Beat poets and 
assemblagists, see Robert M. Murdock, "Assemblage: Anything and 
Everything, Late 50s," in Poets of the Cities: New York and San 
Francisco 1950-1965, ed. Neil A. Chassman, exhibition catalogue 
(Dallas Museum of Fine Arts and Southern Methodist University, 
and New York: E. P. Dutton, 1974), pp. 32-38. 

32. Solomon, The Second Breakthrough, p. 7. 

33. Oldenburg intended the exhibition to be a collaborative en- 
deavor involving many artists. He later recalled that he imposed his 
ideas for the show on Dine, who was "something less than an 
enthusiastic collaborator"; quoted in Ellen H. Johnson, Claes 
Ohienburg (Baltimore: Penguin Books, 1971), p. 59, n. 14. 

34. Time described this environment as "a shocking-pink and 
green affair with bedsprmgs hanging from the ceiling and an um- 
brella protruding from the wall, with cardboard signs reading, 
'Breakfast Is Ready,' 'Go to Work,' and 'Why Can't We Be Friends?' 
Dine calls these 'phrases you hear around any household. I wanted 
to show the violence of a home.' " "Up-Beats," Time, 75 (March 14, 
1960), p. 80. 

35. Claes Oldenburg, conversation with the author, January 25, 

36. From the Judson Gallery Calendar of Events of the 1960 sea- 
son, Judson Memorial Church Archives, New York. 

37. Transcript from panel entitled "New Uses of the Human Image 
in Painting" held at the Judson Gallery, December 2, 1959, Judson 
Memorial Church Archives, New York. 

38. The other artists who produced comic books were Robert 
Whitman, Dick Higgins, Dick Tyler, and Red Grooms. 

39. The analogy between the assemblagists and the Ashcan School 
was first noted by Irving H. Sandler, "Ash Can Revisited, a New 
York Letter," Art International, 4 (October 1960), pp. 28-30. 

40. Hilton Kramer, "Month in Review," Arts, 35 (November 1960), 
p. 50. The first exhibition, entitled "New Media — New Forms: In 
Painting and Sculpture," opened in June 1960. It was so successful 
that a second version, entitled "New Media — New Forms: In Paint- 
ing and Sculpture, Version II," was presented in September 1960. In 
October 1960, a catalogue for the first exhibition was published. In 
contrast to the exhibitions, the catalogue was entitled New 
Forms — New Media I. 

41. See, for example, the review by John Canaday, "Art: A Wild, but 
Curious, End-of-Season Treat," The New York Times, June 7, 1960, 
section 5, p. 32. 

42. Kaprow later explained why he joined Cage's class: 

It was purely accidental. Although I had known Cage's work and 
met him once or twice in the years before that, and although I 
was very interested in what he was doing, I wasn't especially 
interested in studying music. I was working on Environments in 
the mid-fifties. I was using, along with odors, many sounds. How- 
ever, I wanted a richer source of sounds than gimmicked-up me- 
chanical toys could give me. I had no background in sound what- 
soever, and I didn't want to use or make music. I wanted noise, 
which had always interested me more. ... So, I went to Cage to 
find out how to use tape-machines. . . . 

Quoted in Richard Kostelanetz, The Theatre of Mixed Means: An 
Introduction to Happenings, Kinetic Environments, and Other 
Mixed-Means Performances (New York: The Dial Press, 1968), 
p. 105. 

43. Quoted in Tomkins, Off the Wall, p. 149. 

44. John Cage, "Experimental Music," in Silence: Lectures and 
Writings (Middletown, Connecticut: Wesleyan University Press, 
1961), p. 12. For a general study of Cage, from which the present 
discussion is drawn, see Calvin Tomkins, The Bride e*) The Bach- 
elors: The Heretical Courtship m Modern Art (New York: The 
Viking Press, 1965), pp. 69-144; Kostelanetz, Theatre of Mixed 
Means; and Michael Kirby, ed.. Happenings: An Illustrated An- 
thology (New York: E. R Dutton, 1966), pp. 31-32, 36-38. 

45. For further information on Black Mountain College, which 
closed in 1956, see Martin Duberman, Black Mountain: An Explo- 
ration in Community (New York: E. P. Dutton, 1972). 

46. While the audience faced the center of the room, holding white 
cups which had been placed on their chairs. Cage read, from a 
raised lectern at the side of the room, excerpts from the medieval 
German mystic Meister Eckhart, after which he performed a com- 
position with radio; Richards read poetry; Rauschenberg, whose 
white paintings hung above the heads of the spectators, played old 
records on a hand-wound gramophone; Tudor played a "prepared 
piano," while Merce Cunningham improvised a dance through the 
aisles. Later, Tudor poured water from one bucket to another while 
Rauschenberg projected abstract slides and film clips onto the ceil- 
ing. The composer Jay Watt played exotic musical instruments in 
the corner, and coffee was served by four boys dressed in white. See 
Kirby, Happenings, pp. 31-32. 

47. See Tomkins, Off the Wall, pp. 151-52, for a description of 
Kaprow's Happening at Segal's farm. Kaprow had earlier staged sim- 
ilar Happenings while attending Cage's class at the New School 
during 1958 and 1959. These classroom exercises were followed by 
an informal Happening presented at Douglass College, Rutgers 
University, in April 1958 and then by the Hansa picnic at Segal's. 
Kaprow's first official public Happening, 18 Happenings in Six 
Parts, was presented at the Reuben Gallery in October 1959. 

48. See Allan Kaprow, "Something to Take Place: A Happening," in 
Kirby, Happenings, pp. 53-66. 

49. 18 Happenings m Six Parts took place on October 4, 6, 7, 8, 9, 
10. Kaprow assigned members of the audience to each of the three 
rooms. They did not remain in these rooms for the duration of the 
piece, however, but changed rooms at specific times. As the event 
began, the three rooms were flooded with bright light — pink, deep 
blue, and pale blue. The reverberating note of a bell was heard 
while loud electronic sounds issued simultaneously from loud- 
speakers in each corner of the gallery. The performers walked ex- 
pressionlessly down the narrow corridors into the makeshift rooms 
and began to perform simple quasi-gymnastic moves. Among the 
activities that followed, one man stood with his hands on his hips 
for sixteen seconds, then bent forward and extended his arms like 
wings for five seconds; two men in suits walked formally down the 
side corridor, each carrying a small stick in front of him; from 
placards, two men read such things as "it is said that time is es- 
sence ... we here know time . . . 'spiritually' "; a man played a 
record which asked, "Are the gentlemen ready?"; lights went off and 
on in a carefully programmed sequence; slides were shown; one girl 
bounced a ball and another did uncomplicated moves while kneel- 
ing in the center of the room. After ninety minutes of such ac- 
tivities, the performance was over. See Kaprow, "18 Happenings in 6 
Parts," in Kirby, Happenings, pp. 67-83. 

50. Given the distinct stylistic and intentional differences among 
the various artists who performed and created Happenings, the 
generic application of the word raised understandable objections. 
Even Kaprow voiced reservations, especially since the word's eu- 
phonious resemblance to happenstance erroneously connoted 
something unplanned or trite (Kirby, Happenings, pp. 47-48). Other 
labels were suggested, such as "Intermedia" (Dick Higginsj, "The- 
ater Events" (Whitman), "Plays" (Grooms), and "Theatre of Mixed 
Means" (Richard Kostelanetz). 

Notes 1 1 1 

51. Some writers have felt that this audience-actor relationship 
was basic to the concept of Happenings. Susan Sontag, for example, 
saw the intimacy as abusive and regarded this treatment as a cen- 
tral characteristic. Kirby, who played such an impressive early role 
in defining Happenings, disagreed, maintaining that lamming the 
audience together had more to do with limited space resources 
than with philosophy; that a Happening presented on a proscenium 
stage would still be a Happening. Kirby's analysis is accurate, but 
does not mitigate the fact that the involvement necessitated by 
these cramped spaces became a major component of Happenings. 
See Susan Sontag, "Happenings: An Art of Radical Juxtaposition," 
in Against Interpretation and Other Essays (New York: Dell, 1966), 
pp. 263-74; and Kirby, Happenings, p. 11. 

52. 18 Happenings in Six Parts was a scrupulously annotated work 
in which timing and details were orchestrated with meticulous 
precision. Two weeks were spent in rehearsal, during which time 
performers had to memorize stick drawings and time scores so that 
each movement and sequence could be carefully monitored; see 
also Fig. 24. 

53. See Kirby, Happenings, p. 38; and Robert Whitman, conversa- 
tion with the author, June 21, 1983. 

54. See Allan Kaprow, "A Statement," in Kirby, Happenings, pp. 

55. The contrast between Kaprow's and Grooms's Happenings was 
first made by Oldenburg; see Kostelanetz, Theatre of Mixed Means, 
p. 135. 

56. Kirby describes the event: "When he [Mathieu] re-enacted the 
thirteenth-century Battle of Bouvines on canvas, he wore a cos- 
tume made up of black trousers, a black silk jacket, white cross- 
leggings, and a white helmet that tied under his chin. . . . The 
creation of the painting, which was based upon detailed historical 
research and executed during the same hours of the day that the 
battle itself was fought, was filmed." See Kirby, Happenings, p. 28. 

57. See Kirby, Happenings, pp. 28-29. The New York Times report 
of the Gutai group's performances influenced Oldenburg; see Rose, 
Oldenburg, p. 25. 

58. Grooms, conversation with the author, June 30, 1983. 

59. Grooms, "A Statement," in Kirby, Happenings, p. 118. 

60. Grooms, conversation with the author, June 30, 1983. 

61. Grooms' The Big Leap was originally intended to have been 
presented as well. 

62. Dine later recalled that his decision to do a Happening had 
been taken during a conversation with Oldenburg. Oldenburg said, 
"We're going to have these Happenings," and Dine responded, "O.K. 
I'd like to do one." Jim Dine, "A Statement," in Kirby, Happenings, 
p. 185. 

63. Coosje van Bruggen, Claes Oldenburg: Mouse Museum/Ray 
Gun Wing, exhibition catalogue (Cologne: Museum Ludwig, 1979), 
p. 13. 

64. See Kostelanetz, Theatre of Mixed Means, pp. 137-38. 

65. Oldenburg's cast included himself and his wife, Pat, as well as 
Lucas Samaras, then studying acting with Stella Adler. For a more 
detailed exposition of Oldenburg's characters and scripts, see Rose, 
Oldenburg, p. 184. 

66. Quoted in van Bruggen, Claes Oldenburg, p. 27. Oldenburg 
later presented many of the handmade stage props used in his Hap- 
penings as sculpture; for example. Freighter and Sailboat, held by 
Pat Oldenburg in Store Days, II. 

67. Dine, "A Statement," in Kirby, Happenings, p. 188. 

68. Ibid. 

69. Segal, conversation with the author, July 7, 1983. 

70. Kaprow's reputation in particular was adversely affected by the 
fugitive nature of Happenings. While other artists went on from 
Happenings to produce static objects which won them fame, Kap- 
row did not. His contribution to the formulation of the aesthetic of 
the early 1960s is thus often undervalued. In fact, he played a domi- 
nant role in the avant-garde community during this period, exert- 
ing incalculable influence not only on Happenings but on Pop Art 
as well. 

71. Allan Kaprow, Assemblage, Environments &) Happenings (New 
York: Harry N. Abrams, 1966), p. 184. Oldenburg reiterated this 
attitude by describing the series of Happenings he presented in 
connection with The Store as presenting "in events what the store 
presents in objects ... a theater of real events (a newsreel)." Claes 
Oldenburg and Emmett Williams, Store Days: Documents from 
The Store (1961) and Ray Gun Theater (1962) (New York: Some- 
thing Else Press, 1967), p. 80 

72. Quoted in Rose, Oldenburg, p. 183. 

73t. This observation about the compartmentalized character of 
Happenings, as well as their relationship to assemblage, was first 
noted by Kirby, Happenings, pp. 13-21. 

74. See Kaprow, "Jackson Pollock," pp. 56-57, and " 'Happenings' 
in the New York Scene," Art News, 60 (May 1961), pp. 36-39, 

75. Quoted in Rose, Oldenburg, p. 183. 

76. Grooms, conversation with the author, June 30, 1983. 

77. Rosenberg, "The American Action Painters," pp. 22-23, 48-50. 

78. Since Happenings relied on chance and the acceptance of the 
unforeseen, they carried the same existentialist charge that fueled 
Abstract Expressionist painting. Chance implied risk — and poten- 
tial failure. By hazarding failure. Happenings reinvested art with a 
sense of emotional tension that had all but vanished with the aca- 
demic mannerisms of second-generation Abstract Expressionists. 

79. Kaprow, " 'Happenings,' " pp. 60-62. 

80. Ibid. 

81. In a conversation between Allan Kaprow and Howard Moody at 
the Judson Gallery in December 1959, Kaprow admonished the 
gallery to "keep away from Time and Life and all attempts to sensa- 
tionalize"; notes from the conversation preserved in the Judson 
Memorial Church Archives, New York. 

82. Kaprow, " 'Happenings,' " pp. 60-62. 

83. Quoted in Tomkins, Off the Wall, p. 154. The commercialism 
of art alluded to by Oldenburg was a fate suffered by much of the 
American avant-garde in the sixties. 

84. "There's no moment in life that's not musical"; quoted in 
Irmeline Lebeer, "An Interview with George Brecht," in An Intro- 
duction to George Brecht's Book of the Tumbler on Fire, ed. Henry 
Martin (Milan: Multhipla Ediziom, 1978), p. 82. 

85. Tristan Tzara, "Seven Dada Manifestoes," in The Dada Painters 
and Poets: An Anthology, ed. Robert Motherwell (New York; Wit- 
tenborn, Schultz), pp. 96-97. 

86. This notice appeared on most of the Chambers Street concerts 
organized by La Monte Young and held at Yoko Ono's loft on 
Chambers Street from December 1960 to June 1961. 

87. Brecht's "Towards Events" exhibition at the Reuben Gallery 
was subtitled "An Arrangement." According to Michael Nyman, 
Brecht "used this word in the sense 'of a musical arrangement, and 
also in the sense that things are arranged rather than made. The 
poster for the show was also made in a musical way. That is, you 

112 Notes 

had the text running over most of the left hand side, and down the 
right hand side you had a time notation, so that each line of the 
poster was to be read over a certain period of time.' " Michael 
Nyman, "An Interview with George Brecht," in Martin, Introduc- 
tion to Tumbler on Fire, p. 119, n. 9. 

88. It was through David Tudor, in attendance at the workshop 
recording some of Cage's music, that Young became more familiar 
with Cage's ideas. 

89. La Monte Young, conversation with the author, [uly 7, 1983. 

90. lames Waring, letter to La Monte Young, December 1960. La 
Monte Young Archives, New York. 

91. Simone Forti was known as Simone Morris when she first 
moved to New York. After her divorce from Robert Morris and her 
marriage to Robert Whitman, she became Simone Whitman. She is 
now known by her maiden name, Simone Forti. 

92. Maciunas had opened the gallery along with a fellow Lithua- 
nian, Almus Salcius, in the spring of 1961. Called the AG Gallery 
(the initials of their first names), it was devoted initially to literary 
readings, ancient music, and Abstract Expressionist art. See Jack- 
son Mac Low, "Wie George Maciunas die New Yorker Avantgarde 
kennenlernte," in 2962 Wiesbaden Fluxus 1982: Eine kleme 
Geschichte von Fluxus m drei Teilen, exhibition catalogue 
(Wiesbaden: Museum Wiesbaden, 1982), p. 110. 

93. Included in An Anthology were pieces by Young, Brecht, Jack- 
son Mac Low, James Waring, Nam June Paik, Simone Forti, Dick 
Higgins, Walter De Maria, Yoko Ono, John Cage, Richard Maxfield, 
Terry Riley, Earle Brown, Joseph Byrd, Toshi Ichiyanagi, Terry Jen- 
nings, Emmett Williams, Christian Wolff, and others. One of the 
items was an article entitled "Concept Art" by Fienry Flynt — an 
unacknowledged precursor of the Conceptual art movement of the 
late 1960s. 

94. There are various interpretations of what the word "Fluxus" 
meant. According to the most accepted version, it was a name 
Maciunas chose when he and a group of Lithuanians met and de- 
cided to start a Lithuanian magazine, a project that never mate- 
rialized. See Mats B., "Birth of Fluxus — the Ultimate Version," in 
George F. Macnnias, exhibition catalogue (Berlings, Arlov, Sweden: 
Kalejdoskop, 1981), unpaginated. The first time Maciunas used the 
name — in an announcement of a concert for early music at the AG 
Gallery — it referred to a proposed publication, now no longer 
Lithuanian. Beginning in the fall of 1962, Fluxus was used as an 
umbrella name for a series of concerts, rather than for a publica- 
tion. Some disagreement exists about what constituted the first 
European Fluxus concert. While at least two concerts that included 
Fluxus artists took place prior to the Wiesbaden concert in Sep- 
tember, these were billed as "neo-Dada" rather than as "Fluxus." 

95. The Yam Festival included a month-long program of activities, 
among which were Al Hansen's performance Auction, an exhibi- 
tion of "decollages" by the European Wolf Vostell, Alison Knowles' 
Yam Hat Show (for which more than two hundred artists were 
invited to bring their own hat creations), and a ping-pong tourna- 
ment held on the rooftop of the Kornblee Gallery. The climax of the 
festival was a daylong event organized by Kaprow at Segal's farm on 
May 19, 1963, which included pieces by Young, Fliggins, Yvonne 
Rainer, Trisha Brown, Kaprow, Vostell, and Charles Ginnever. 

96. The New York Audio-Visual group met at the Epitome Cafe, 
run by Larry Poons. One of the typical pieces produced at these 
gatherings was Poons' Tennessee, created with a motorcycle, an 
electric guitar, and a basketball. 

97. Letter from Robert Morris to George Maciunas, April 4, 1964, 
in the Maciunas Estate, New York; photocopy courtesy of Barbara 
Moore, New York. Asked in 1980 what Fluxus was, Morris replied, 
"I'm not informed about Fluxus"; see Fluxus Etc.: The Gilbert and 

Lila Silverman Collection, exhibition catalogue (Bloomfield Hills, 
Michigan: Cranbrook Academy of Art Museum, 1981), p. 39. 

98. "The group, with few exceptions, that associates itself with 
Fluxus is irresponsible," Kaprow complained. "It is my impression 
that many people just simply goof-off and pretend in a kind of very 
very nasty way, socially speaking, and certainly socially with re- 
spect to other artists, that they have certain superiority in their 
seemingly indifferent little activities such as sneeze tomorrow or a 
finger is as good as a hole in a wall, or any of these little directives 
which if acted out are somehow to me important rather than unim- 
portant so far as its effect is to say to me and others — 'You guys are 
doing important things, but look, we are even more important 
doing unimportant things' "; quoted in Harry Ruhe, Fluxus, The 
Most Radical and Experimental Art Movement of the Sixties 
(Amsterdam: 'A,' 1979), unpaginated. 

99. Stockhausen had reportedly said that all good music was based 
on the European tradition, a comment at which Flynt, who was 
involved with African and other forms of ethnic music, took par- 
ticular umbrage. Conversation with Flynt and Barbara Moore, Feb- 
ruary 18, 1982. 

100. For a more complete analysis of Maciunas' typographic style, 
see Barbara Moore, "George Maciunas: A Finger in Fluxus," 
Artforum, 21 (October 1982), pp. 38-45. 

101. For some artists, such as Joe Jones, Maciunas was the total 
embodiment of FluxuS; when asked later what Fluxus was, he re- 
sponded: "Fluxus was one man named George F. Maciunas"; quoted 
in Fluxus Etc., p. 27. For others, Maciunas remained simply an 
organizer. As the French artist Ben Vautier later recalled: "If you ask 
me who was George Maciunas, I would say a classifier. I think his 
great job was classifying everything and everybody"; quoted in Em- 
mett Williams, "Happy Birthday, Everybody!" in Wiesbaden 
Fluxus, p. 87. 

102. That Maciunas capriciously included and excluded artists 
from the "organization" only exacerbated Fluxus' amorphous char- 
acter. Emmett Williams, for example, the concrete poet, was ex- 
pelled for failing to label a concert "Fluxus" that included what 
Maciunas had designated as the requisite percentage of Fluxus art- 

103. I am indebted, in the discussion of dance, to Jill Johnston's "A 
Criticism of Outrage," in Judson Dance Theater: 1962-1966, eds. 
Wendy Perron and Daniel J. Cameron, exhibition catalogue (Ben- 
nington, Vermont: Bennington College Judson Project, 1981), pp. 
10-13, and "The New American Modern Dance," Art and Liter- 
ature, 5 (Summer 1965), pp. 1 18-33; and Sally Banes' Terpsichore in 
Sneakers: Post-Modern Dance (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Com- 
pany, 1980). 

104. Cunningham's professional involvement with Cage had actu- 
ally commenced in 1944 with a joint recital, in which Cunningham 
had selected a time structure for his dance and asked Cage to inde- 
pendently compose music of the same duration. 

105. Cunningham's break with the modern dance practices of Mar- 
tha Graham was particularly dramatic because he had trained un- 
der Graham and had been the company's principal dancer until 

106. On July 6, 1962, three hundred people attended a three-hour 
program of twenty-three dances. The event was greeted with crit- 
ical acclaim. For Jill Johnston, dance critic for The Village Voice, 
the performance marked the "beginning of the definitive end 
of the modern dance establishment"; Johnston, "New American 
Modern Dance," p. 118. For the dance historian Sally Banes, it was 
the "beginning of an historic process that changed the shape 
of dance history"; Banes, "Judson Dance Theatre: Democracy's 
Body 1962-1964" (Ph.D. dissertation. New York University, 1980), 
p. 1. 

Notes 113 

107. Johnston, "New American Modern Dance," p. 130. 

108. lohnston, "A Criticism of Outrage," p. 12. 

109. Yvonne Rainer, "A Quasi Survey of Some 'Minimalist' Tenden- 
cies in the Quantitatively Minimal Dance Activity Midst the 
Plethora, or an Analysis of Trio A," in Minimal Art: A Critical 
Anthology, ed. Gregory Battcock (New York: E. P. Dutton, 1968), 
pp. 263-73. 

110. Quoted in Rose, Oldenburg, pp. 51-52. 

111. The equation in World's Fair. II between the characters and 
the contents of their pockets was perceived by van Bruggen, Claes 
Oldenburg, p. 30. 

112. Quoted in Rose, Oldenburg, p. 46. 

113. Sidney Tillim, "Month in Review," Arts Magazine, 37 (No- 
vember 1962), p. 38. 

114. Though various critics had seen humor in The Smiling Work- 
man (Fig. 40), Dine repudiated this assessment: "What I was doing 
was not a humorous situation. I think it was funny to see it, but I 
do not think obsession is funny or that not being able to stop one's 
intensity is funny. If I had performed it for an hour with that sort of 
intensity, I do not think it would have been funny. It took the form 
of a blackout or a vaudeville act. The nature of the medium did 
that, not the intent"; Dine, "A Statement," in Kirby, Happenings, 
p. 186. 

115. Quoted in Oldenburg and Williams, Store Days, p. 13. 

116. Quoted in G. R. Swensen, "What Is Pop Art?" Art News, 62 
(November 1963), p. 25. 

117. Segal later said that Happenings had given him license to deal 
more directly with mundane events; conversation with the author, 
July 7, 1983. 

118. Lichtenstein's use of parody was noted as early as 1953 in 
Fairfield Porter, "Reviews and Previews," Art News, 51 (February 
1953), p. 74: 

He pretends at first to be interested in the illustrations in 
grammar-school history books, he pretends to be copying them — 
but what IS he thinking of, how did it turn out this way? The 
surprise is very funny, that what he is really thinking of is paint- 
ing, and that he is an extremely sophisticated young man. He 
hides his wit, he hides his comment, butter wouldn't melt in his 
mouth. It is the reverse of putting a moustache on the Mona Lisa; 
he dresses innocent, dull provinciality m fashionable city 
clothes, because, after all, innocence and provinciality are just as 
interesting as the acceptable still-life. And so he kids also the 
city. And while he does this he shows that he understands the 
essential nature of painting. He gets it down in one spontaneous 
layer, and he gets it down right. 

119. Coplans, "An Interview with Roy Lichtenstein," p. 31. 

120. Television interview with Roy Lichtenstein and Allan Kaprow 
by Joan W. Konner and Selden Rodman; part of the series "Artists of 
New Jersey," telecast on WNET/Channel 13, September 23, 1964. 
Tape in The Museum of Modern Art Film Study Center, Television 
Archives of the Arts. 

121. Under Kaprow's leadership, Rutgers University, during this 
period, was a seedbed for experimentation in the arts. Kaprow, 
Robert Watts, and Lichtenstein taught there; Robert Whitman and 
Lucas Samaras were Kaprow's students. George Segal, who lived 
near the campus, and George Brecht, who worked in the nearby 
Johnson & Johnson plant, were all members of this extended 
Rutgers community. For further information on the Rutgers group, 
see Ten from Rutgers University, exhibition catalogue (New York: 
Bianchini Gallery, 1965); and Twelve from Rutgers, exhibition cata- 
logue (New Brunswick, New Jersey: University Art Gallery, 1977). 

122. Quoted in Bruce Glaser, "Lichtenstein, Oldenburg, Warhol: A 
Discussion," Artforum, 4 (February 1966), p. 21. 

123. Quoted m Jean Stein, Edie: An American Biography, ed. 
George Plimpton (New York: Dell, 1982), p. 192. 

124. These aspects of Johns' work were first articulated by Leo 
Steinberg in "Jasper Johns: The First Seven Years of His Art" (1962), 
revised in Other Criteria: Confrontations v/ith Twentieth-Century 
Art (New York: Oxford University Press, 1972), pp. 17-54, and Alan 
R. Solomon in Jasper fohns, exhibition catalogue (New York: The 
Jewish Museum, 1964). 

125. John Coplans, "Talking with Roy Lichtenstein," Artforum, 5 
(May 1967), p. 34. 

126. Quoted in Swenson, "What Is Pop Art?," p. 26. 

127. "I think that the reaction to the painting of the last genera- 
tion, which is generally believed to have been a highly subjective 
generation, is impersonality"; Oldenburg, quoted m Glaser, 
"Lichtenstein, Oldenburg, Warhol," p. 22. 

128. John Ashbery was the first to write about the relationship 
between Robbe-Grillet and the Pop artists; see his "The New Real- 
ism," in New Realists, exhibition catalogue (New York: Sidney 
Janis Gallery, 1962), unpaginated. 

129. See Sontag, "Against Interpretation," in Against Interpreta- 
tion, pp. 3-14. 

130. Quoted in Morris Dickstein, Gates of Eden: American 
Culture m the Sixties (New York: Basic Books, 1977), p. 9. 

131. Quoted in Rose, Oldenburg, p. 11. 

132. Discussion of media became increasingly pronounced in these 
years. It can be argued, for example, that Marshall McLuhan's Un- 
derstanding Media, published in 1965, was successful not because 
it precipitated an awareness of contemporary media, but because it 
articulated already accepted and widespread views. 

133. See Swenson, "What Is Pop Art?," p. 25. 

134. For a full catalogue of Oldenburg's Mouse Museum and Ray 
Gun Museum, see van Bruggen, Claes Oldenburg. 

135. See Sontag, "Notes on 'Camp,' " in Agamst Interpretation, pp. 

136. Warhol began painting Marilyn Monroe's portrait after her 
death in 1962, and Elizabeth Taylor's portrait in response to her 
near-fatal illness in the early 1960s; see Swenson, "What Is Pop 
Art?," p. 60. 

137. See Max Kozloff, " 'Pop' Culture, Metaphysical Disgust, and 
the New Vulgarians," Art International, 6 (March 1962), pp. 34-36. 

138. Tillim, "Month m Review," p. 36. 

139. The term "Pop Art" was not applied to the works until the 
spring of 1963. It had initially been used by Lawrence Alloway in 
England to describe industrialized, urban media of mass communi- 
cation. The term had evolved in the 1950s in discussions among a 
group of English artists, writers, and architects, known as the Inde- 
pendent Group, who were interested in expanding their aesthetic 
awareness so that it encompassed all aspects of the manmade en- 
vironment and popular culture. See Alloway, "Pop Art: The Words," 
in Topics in American Art, pp. 119-22; and Jasia Reichardt, "Pop 
Art and After," Art International, 7 (February 1963), pp. 42-47. 

Certain problems attended the grouping of artists on the basis of 
subject matter alone. Particularly for Oldenburg and Dine, it ig- 
nored their gestural style and the more figurative way objects func- 
tioned in their work. Similarly confusing was the occasional 
though inconsistent addition of Johns and Rauschenberg to this 
category. The definition of Pop Art, and of those who qualified as 
Pop artists, thus remained nebulous. George Brecht, for example. 

114 Notes 

was incliKicd in many of the early I'op shows, but Oldenburg fre- 
quently was not. Nor did Oldenburg consider any of his work be- 
fore the end of 1963 to be Pop. Whether Segal was or was not Pop 
remained a question as late as 1970, when Lawrence Alloway 
curated the show "Pop Art" at the Whitney Museum: he included 
Rauschenberg and Johns but not Segal. Even Leo Castelli, one of the 
primary Pop Art dealers, categorized Warhol solely on the basis of 
subject matter, considering Warhol's Campbell's Soup Can paint- 
ings Pop, but not his portraits or disaster series. See Suzi Gablik, 
"Protagonists of Pop," Studio International, 178 (July-August 1969), 
p. 10. 

140. Sidney Jams, "On the Theme of the Exhibition," in New Real- 
ists, unpaginated. 

14L Harold Rosenberg, "The Art Galleries: The Game of Illusion," 
The New Yorker, 38 (November 24, 1962), pp. 162, 167. 

142. Thomas B. Hess, "Reviews and Previews," Art News, 61 (De- 
cember 1962), p. 12. 

143. Grooms, conversation with the author, June 30, 1983. 

144. Hess, "Reviews and Previews," p. 12. 

145. Sidney Jams, conversation with the author, July 20, 1983. 

146. George Segal, "On Whitman and Things," Arts Magazine, 47 
(November 1972), p. 55. 

147. Max Kozloff, Clement Greenberg, John Canaday, Dore Ash- 
ton, Irving Sandler, Hilton Kramer, and Thomas Hess were all ini- 
tially hostile to Pop Art. Even Barbara Rose, a later advocate, was 
suspicious. In answer to the question whether Pop Art was really 
art, she replied: "I am willing to say that if it is in the Guggenheim, 
It IS art"; see Rose, "Pop Art at the Guggenheim," Art Interna- 
tional, 7 (May 1963), p. 22. 

148. Peter Selz, "Pop Goes the Artist," Partisan Review, 30 (Sum- 
mer 1963), p. 314. 

149. Quoted m Swenson, "What Is Pop Art'," p. 25. 

150. Clement Greenberg, "Avant-Garde and Kitsch" (1936) in Art 
and Culture: Critical Essays (Boston: Beacon Press, 1961), p. 10. 

151. Kozloff, "The New Vulgarians," p. 36. 

152. The relationship between the development of Abstract Ex- 
pressionism and the growing disenchantment with politics in the 
1930s and 1940s has been forcefully articulated by Serge Guilbaut, 
How New York Stole the Idea of Modern Art: Abstract Expres- 
sionism. Freedom, and the Cold War (Chicago: The University of 
Chicago Press, 1983). His analysis fulfills Clement Greenberg's 
prophecy that "Some day it will have to be told how anti-Stalimsm 
which started out more or less as Trotskyism turned into art for 
art's sake, and thereby cleared the way, heroically, for what was to 
come" (ibid., p. 17). 

153. Adolph Gottlieb and Mark Rothko, "Statement," in Theories 
of Modern Art: A Source Book by Artists and Critics, ed. Herschel 
B. Chipp (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1968), p. 545. 

154. Barnett Newman's exhibition at French and Co. in 1959, ar- 
ranged by Clement Greenberg, was a revelation to many artists and 
encouraged the exploration of single-image formats based on color. 

155. A typical comment about the tedium of Stella's work was 
made by Brian O'Doherty in 1964 when he called Stella "the 
Oblomov of art, the Cezanne of nihilism, the master of ennui"; 
quoted in Robert Roscnblum, Frank Stella (Baltimore: Penguin 
Books, 1971), p. 26. Irving Sandler, in "The New Cool-Art," Art m 
America, 1 (February 1965), pp. 96-101, later compared the boring 
quality he found in Stella to that of the Pop artists. 

156. William Rubin, "Younger American Painters," Art Interna- 
tional, 4 (January 1960), p. 24. 

157. The special character of the Black paintings and their rela- 
tionship to Stella's mood were meticulously documented by Brenda 
Richardson and Mary Martha Ward in Frank Stella: The Black 
Paintings, exhibition catalogue (Baltimore: The Baltimore Museum 
of Art, 1976). 

158. Quoted in William S. Rubin, Frank Stella, exhibition cata- 
logue (New York: The Museum of Modern Art, 1970), p. 37. 

159. As paraphrased in Sandler, "The New Cool- Art," p. 96. 

160. Quoted in Rubin, Frank Stella, p. 44. 

161. Quoted in Bruce Glaser, "Questions to Stella and Judd," Art 
News, 65 (September 1966), pp. 58-59. 

162. Stella did not agree with the Minimalist sculptors' com- 
prehension of his work. "It was to the detriment of sculpture that it 
picked up the simplest things that were going on in painting. The 
sculptors just scanned the organization of painting and made sculp- 
ture out of it. It was a bad reading of painting; they really didn't get 
much of what the painting was about"; quoted in Rubin, Frank 
Stella, p. 70, 

163. This relationship between Judd's and Stella's work was noted 
by Rosalind E. Krauss, Passages m Modern Sculpture (New York: 
The Viking Press, 1977), pp. 243-88. 

164. Arts Yearbook 7: New York: The Artworld, ed. James R. 
Mellow (New York: The Art Digest, 1964) and Arts Yearbook 8: 
Contemporary Sculpture, ed. William Seitz (New York: The Art 
Digest, 1965), respectively. 

165. Judd, "Specific Objects," Arts Yearbook 8, p. 78. 

166. Quoted in John Coplans, "An Interview with Don Judd," 
Artforum, 9 (June 1971), p. 44. 

167. For a discussion of the relationship between Pop Art and Min- 
imalism in this regard, see Barbara Rose, "Problems of Criticism V: 
The Politics of Art, Part 11," Artforum, 7 (January 1969), pp. 44-49. 

168. Quoted in Tomkins, The Bride e) the Bachelors, p. 193. Kap- 
row reiterated this desire in describing his move from Abstract 
Expressionism to assemblage: "I wanted more tangible reality than 
it was possible to suggest through painting alone''; quoted in 
Kostelanetz, Theatre of Mixed Means, p. 107. 

169. Quoted in Swenson, "What Is Pop Art?," p. 63. 

170. See Krauss, Passages, p. 250. 

171. Quoted in Dan Flavin. Fluorescent Light. Etc. from Dan Fla- 
vin, exhibition catalogue (Ottawa: The National Gallery of Canada, 
1969), p. 168. Fluxus' emphasis on the trivial can be seen in Brecht's 
statement, "the occurrence that would be of most interest to me 
would be the little occurrences on the street"; quoted in Ruhe, 
Fluxus, unpaginated. 

172. De Maria had shown his game sculptures before this at the 
Ergo Suits Festival in Woodstock, August 1962. They traveled with 
the festival to East Hampton, Long Island, the following week. 

173. Excerpt from Robert Morris, "Blank Form," which had been 
scheduled for publication in An Anthology, but later withdrawn; 
see p. 100 and n. 174 below. 

174. Morris removed his contributions from An Anthology hut not 
his title page, which backed Simone Morris' entry. For the second 
edition, published in 1970, even his title page was removed. 

175. See Robert Morris, "Notes on Sculpture," Artforum, 4 (Febru- 
ary 1966), pp. 43-44. 

176. Lucy R. Lippard, "As Painting Is to Sculpture: A Changing 
Ratio," in American Sculpture of the Sixties, ed. Maurice 
Tuchman, exhibition catalogue (California: Los Angeles County 
Museum of Art, 1967), p. 32. 

Notes 115 

177. Judd's remark, "It looks like painting is finished," exemplified 
the kind of pressure exerted on painters; quoted in Dan Flavin, "An 
Autobiographical Sketch," Artforum, 4 (December 1965), p. 21. 

178. Quoted in Kostelanetz, Theatre of Mixed Means, p. 121. Art- 
ists even began claiming art history and philosophy as plausible 
fields of study: Kaprow was a trained art historian, earning an M.A. 
from Columbia; Morris received an M.A. in art history from 
Hunter College; and ludd, who held a B.A. from Columbia Univer- 
sity, had studied there with art historian Meyer Schapiro. 

179. See Sandler, "The New Cool- Art" and Robert Rosenblum, 
"Pop Art and Non-Pop: An Essay in Distinction," Canadian Art, 23 
(January 1966), pp. 50-54. 

180. The aesthetic unity of the decade was noted by a number of 
critics. For example, see Hilton Kramer, "Episodes from the Six- 
ties," Art in America, 58 (January-February 1970), pp. 56-61. Bar- 

bara Rose, in American Art Since 1900 (New York: Holt, Rinehart 
and Winston, 1975), p. 204, wrote: "From the present vantage point, 
sixties' painting reveals a definite stylistic unity, linking flat and 
three-dimensional, abstract and representational, pop and 'mini- 
mal' art." See also Rose and Irving Sandler, "Sensibility of the Six- 
ties," Art m America, 55 (January-February 1967), pp. 44-57. 

181. Although Sleep logically extended painting into a temporal 
dimension — "moving" pictures, as it were — it also echoed con- 
cerns found among certain of the Fluxus group, particularly La 
Monte Young. Jonas Mekas connected Warhol and Fluxus more 
directly by ascribing the impetus for Warhol's first films to a nar- 
rative piece by Jackson Mac Low, in which the camera holds the 
image of a tree for the duration of the film; see Mac Low, "George 
Maciunas," in Wiesbaden Fluxus, p. 124. 

182. Quoted in Fluxus Etc., p. 49. 

The Amencan 
Independent Cinema 




Imagine an eye unruled by man-made laws of 

perspective, an eye unprejudiced by compositional 

logic, an eye which does not respond to the name 

of everything but which must know each object 

encountered in life through an adventure of 


— Stan Brakhage 

But it's so easy to make movies, you can just shoot 
and every picture comes out right.^ 
— Andy Warhol 

The everyday world is the most astonishing inspira- 
tion conceivable. A walk down 14th Street is more 
amazing than any masterpiece of art. If reality 
makes any sense at all, it is here. Endless, unpre- 
dictable, infinitely rich, it proclaims THE MO- 
MENT as man's sole means of grasping the nature 
of ALL TIME. . . . Thus, one grasps, dimly at first, 
later more clearly, that all events are available, are 
at least potentially equivalent in value, and none 
would be out of place in art.^ 
— Allan Kaprow 

The years 1958 to 1964 constitute a formative 
period in the history of the American independent 
film. It was a time of transition, during which ma- 
jor changes occurred involving both aesthetic is- 
sues and such practical matters as how and where 
films should be distributed and exhibited. One out- 
come of these controversies was that the film- 
maker and filmmaker-run organizations took on an 
activist role, as a result of which independent film 
fashioned a new presence for itself in American 
culture and received greater public attention. As 
had happened in American jazz and the Off-Broad- 
way theater, the independent filmmaker estab- 
lished an indigenous, new art form which ex- 
pressed radical changes taking place in American 
culture. The films being produced and distributed 
in these turbulent years did not comprise a single 
school of filmmaking whose progress and influence 
are easily charted; rather, the film community was 
a competitive and vociferous group of individuals 
joined by friendships and loose affiliations to meet 
specific needs or voice particular ideological and 
aesthetic goals. 

During these years, the fundamental changes in 
the filmmakers' relationship to the medium cen- 
tered on subject matter, style, and form. This essay 
will not map out all the participants in or vicis- 
situdes of these developments. It will identify crit- 
ical moments in filmmaking that mark an attempt 

Opposite: Robert Indiana in Andy Warhol's Eat, 1963 
(see Fig. 175). 

to refashion the cinematic image and re-form the 
cinematic apparatus through the employment of 
new aesthetic strategies. 

Between 1958 and 1964 the relationship of the 
film image to the cinematic apparatus (camera, 
film, projection system) shifted: instead of project- 
ing a symbolic, hallucinatory dream state repre- 
senting the unconscious along narrative lines, 
filmmakers focused on the direct acknowledgment 
of the material properties of film and of the artifice 
of the production process. The art of film con- 
fronted and ultimately dismantled a cinema predi- 
cated on Surrealist aesthetic models and replaced it 
with an eclectic and distinctly American film 

In addition, filmmakers discarded the taboos de- 
fining what should and should not be seen on film 
as judged by the defenders of public morality. The 
independent film, like the Off-Broadway theater, 
gained in notoriety as more work was produced and 
exhibited. Controversy — caused on the one hand 
by censorship, on the other by the outraged re- 
sponse that often greeted new forms of cinematic 
representation — abounded both within and outside 
the film community. Thus the American indepen- 
dent film stood poised against the dominant moral- 
ity of its time and the public's expectation of what 
a film was as entertainment and art. The indepen- 
dent cinema achieved a cultural celebrity that was 
to give the filmmaker a new prominence in the 
1960s and 1970s. 


120 The American Independent Cinema 

The Emergence of the American 
Independent Film 

The tradition confronting the independent film- 
maker in the late 1950s was that formed by the 
films of the preceding decade, especially the com- 
mercial entertainment cinema. Filmmaking had 
been dominated by Hollywood's large-format 
35mm film production industry. The movies were 
a business and, as in any business, the product's 
success in the marketplace was determined by a 
manipulation of public awareness and an under- 
standmg of consumer trends. The producer, dis- 
tributor, and theater owner offered the viewer films 
that were readily perceived as familiar com- 
modities, affirmed popularly held perceptions or 
beliefs, and provided easy-to-understand entertain- 
ment. The Hollywood studio was a "dream factory." 
It produced films for the public imagination, spec- 
tacles shared by the majority of people and em- 
braced by the consumer culture to which they were 
distributed and for whom they were made. Hol- 
lywood was an industry of mass-produced enter- 
tainments that made moviegoing a ritual of 
fulfilled expectations. The possibilities for an alter- 
native cinema were opened up by a technical de- 
velopment that enabled the filmmaker to work 
without a large staff or expensive, cumbersome 
equipment. In the early 1940s a portable motion 
picture camera was introduced. The Bolex I6mm 
camera was sturdy and easy to use, with flexible 
focal lengths that permitted the filmmaker to shift 
quickly from close-ups to long shots and to manip- 
ulate the film image by altering the camera's 
speed — the rate at which images were being re- 

The I6mm camera heralds the beginning of an 
alternative cinema in America, which can be 
traced to the film Meshes of the Afternoon (1943) 
by Maya Deren in collaboration with Alexander 
Hammid. This film was to become emblematic of 
the first decade of the independent cinema, a 
period shaped by Deren and filmmakers Sidney 
Peterson, James Broughton, Kenneth Anger, Willard 
Maas, Marie Menken, Douglas Crockwell, Gregory 
Markopoulos, and others. P. Adams Sitney opens 
his book Visionary Film, a history of the American 
independent cinema, with a discussion of Meshes 

Fig. 157. Maya Deren in Maya Deren and Alexander Ham- 
mid's Meshes of the Afternoon, 1943. Blaek and white, silent, 
18 minutes. Still courtesy of Anthology Film Archives, New 

of the Afternoon. He locates its aesthetic in Euro- 
pean twentieth-century modernism and the avant- 
garde art movements of Constructivism, Sur- 
realism, and Expressionism. The often reproduced 
still (Fig. 157) of Deren from the film stands as a 
symbol of her position in the history of indepen- 
dent film. We see her hands pressed against a mem- 
brane of window glass that reflects the outside 
world; as she stares through that reflecting surface, 
as if into the camera's lens or through a film screen 
out into the world, she becomes a reflection of her- 
self mediated by the projected film image. It is the 
relation of the artist to the projected drearhworld of 
film that dominated the first ten years of the inde- 
pendent cinema. As Deren describes Meshes of the 
Afternoon, it "is concerned with the interior expe- 
riences of an individual. It does not record an event 
which will be witnessed by other persons. Rather, 
it reproduces the way in which the sub-conscious 
of an individual will develop, interpret and elabo- 
rate an apparently simple and casual incident into 
a critical emotional experience."'* 

The film depicts a woman moving through the 
interior spaces of a house, an action repeated in a 
silent dreamlike scenario. Meshes of the After- 
noon, as Deren notes, "is still based on a strong 
literary-dramatic line as a core, and rests heavily 
upon the symbolic value of objects and situa- 
tions.'"^ In Deren's film, a formation of the artistic 
self is articulated in the expression of the dream 
state, a dream narrative within a dream film, in 
which a psychological presence is created within 
the illusionistic film space. This attitude — the ar- 

The American Independent Cinema 121 

ticulation of subconscious experience along a nar- 
rative line — became a powerful focus for early 
avant-garde film and continues to function today as 
a genre within independent filmmakmg. 

Many terms have been used to identify the cin- 
ema of Maya Deren and what followed: avant- 
garde, experimental, vanguard, underground. New 
American Cinema, independent. I have chosen to 
use the term "independent" because it best and 
most simply expresses what this cinema was, 
namely, independent of the production formulas 
and corporate control of the dominant commercial 
film industry. 

During the period from 1958 to 1964, indepen- 
dent cinema participated in a cultural and social 
upheaval that began to break through the conven- 
tional boundaries in the arts between genres and 
forms. These changes did not emerge as a single, 
linear development but occurred in a dialectical 
space of social and political events, art world hap- 
penings, and public demonstrations. Independent 
filmmakers did not live or work in a vacuum; they 
interacted with other filmmakers and were deeply 
involved with what was happening in all of the arts 
and in society at large. 

Stan Brakhage and Bruce Conner 

The radical developments in independent cinema 
at the end of the 1950s can be represented by the 
work of two filmmakers from different parts of the 
country and with dissimilar backgrounds. Stan 
Brakhage, having lived in New York City and San 
Francisco, then settled down to spend most of his 
creative life in Colorado. Although physically re- 
moved from the centers of the art world, his pres- 
ence looms large in the history of the American 
independent cinema. His prolific oeuvre, with its 
protean range of expression, articulated an observa- 
tional and subjective stance that was in part shared 
by the psychological dramas characteristic of the 
independent film of the 1950s. However, Brakhage 
evolved a distinctive aesthetic significantly influ- 
enced by his interest in the modernist vision of 
such authentic American poets as Charles Olson, 
Edward Dorn, Robert Creeley, and Robert Duncan. 
The work of these poets was deeply personal and 
expressive of the American landscape and culture. 

The literary critic Sherman Paul, discussing these 
poets' relationship to American art, characterized 
their work as being "freer in its attitudes toward 
the medium, seeing in the random or accidental 
the beginning of an order." "^^ As these poets shaped 
texts out of the vernacular of American speech and 
experience, so Brakhage made films drawn from his 
domestic life. The result was Brakhage's Anticipa- 


Figs. 158, 159. Stan Brakhage, Anticipation of the Night, 
1958. Color, silent, 42 minutes. Frames courtesy of The 
American Federation of Arts, New York. 

122 The American Independent Cinema 

tion of the Night (1958; Figs. 158, 159), an impor- 
tant achievement which represented a critical 
break and change in the perception of filmmaking. 
Anticipation of the Night rejects drama and the 
notion of a narrative that represents a coherent and 
stable point of view. Brakhage loosens the camera 
as cascading, fragmentary images of color and light 
filter through scenes from the artist's life: children, 
flowers, lawns, home, night and day. The editing 
movement forms a constant inquiry into images, 
liberating the film from the narrative constraints of 
shot-to-shot continuity and vantage point. 

Brakhage's own words convey the shifting imag- 
ery of the film: 

The daylight shadow of a man in its movement 
evokes lights in the night. A rose bowl, held in 
hand, reflects both sun and moon-like illumina- 
tions. The opening of a doorway onto trees antic- 
ipates the twilight into the night. A child is born 
on the lawn, born of water, with promissory rain- 
bow, and the wild rose. It becomes the moon and 
the source of all night light. Lights of the night 
become young children playing a circular game. 
The moon moves over a pillared temple to which 
all lights return. There is seen the sleep of the 
innocents and their animal dreams, becoming 
their amusement, their circular game, becoming 
the morning. The trees change color and lose 
their leaves for the morn, become the complexity 
of branches on which the shadow man hangs 

Brakhage is not denying the self of the artist as a 
presence in his films, but instead represents that 
self through a new and radical appropriation of 
filmic space — abstraction and a breaking down of 
the perspectival coordinates of the frame. He urges 
the liberation of the camera from the linear lan- 
guage of narrative to an intense, personal space of 
evolving forms created from light and color and 
mediated by "metaphors on vision," the title of his 
manifesto published in 1963 by the journal Film 
Culture. The camera lens refines and distorts real- 
ity, collapsing the perspective into an abstract two- 
dimensional plane and then opening it up into an 
illusionistic space; the film frame becomes a single 
space as foreground and background are joined into 
a continually shifting field of action. Variations in 
camera speed, from eight, to sixteen, to twenty- 
four frames per second, and the use of different film 
stocks create subtle changes and modulations in 
the image. 

The aesthetic stance in Anticipation of the Night 
prefigures many later developments in indepen- 
dent film. In his interplay of camera movement 
with editing, even scratching directly on the film 
surface, Brakhage manipulated the tensions be- 
tween the recognizable photographic image and the 
abstraction of the film frame. He strove to erase the 
surface and boundaries of illusion and create a new 
language of filmmaking. Anticipation of the Night 
was a controversial work that challenged views of 
filmmaking even within the independent film 
community. Cinema 16, then the leading showcase 

Fig. 160. Bruce Conner, A Movie, 1958. Black and white, 
sound, 12 minutes. Still courtesy of The American Federation 
of Arts, New York. 

Fig. 161. Bruce Conner, A Movie, 1958. Black and white, 
sound, 12 minutes. Still courtesy of The American Federation 
of Arts, New York. 

for independent film in New York, refused to show 
the film in its program (p. 129). 

Another film released in 1958 was A Movie by 
Bruce Conner (Figs. 160, 161). Conner, a leading fig- 
ure in the assemblage art movement, lived in San 
Francisco, which was also the center of the new 
Beat movement. The hip vernacular of American 
speech became the province of the Beats. As they 
appropriated language, Bruce Conner appropriated 
found footage to articulate a new mode of filmmak- 
ing. In A Movie, as in his assemblage sculpture, 
Conner picked up the debris of a consumer so- 
ciety — the detritus of the Hollywood dream 

Bruce Conner's films constitute another impor- 
tant and highly distinct development within the 
independent film movement. His filmmaking was 
directly influenced by his work as an assemblage 
artist. A Movie, his first film, was originally pre- 
sented as part of an assemblage environment. The 
found footage is drawn from entertainment fea- 
tures, television, and educational and scientific 
films. These sequences are edited together to form 
a playful new language of visual puns. Conner jux- 
taposes the actions in unrelated shots in an asso- 
ciative montage which achieves its own narrative 
continuity and creates a radically different and 
ironic meaning: in a shot from a World War II ac- 
tion film, a submarine captain peers through a per- 
iscope; this is followed by a shot of Marilyn 
Monroe in a pornographic short; then a shot of tor- 
pedoes being fired from a submarine; the sequence 
ends with an atomic bomb blast. 

A Movie shares the aesthetic strategy of as- 
semblage art — found objects are removed from 
their everyday contexts and assembled into new 
sequences to create new constellations of mean- 
ings. In Conner's films, each shot differs according 
to the production qualities of the original film and 
the kind of film stocks used. Conner establishes a 
rhythm as he edits the shots together by adding a 
contrapuntal sound track of pop and classical mu- 
sic that lends further irony to the remade narrative. 

Although Anticipation of the Night and A Movie 
posit divergent approaches, each constitutes a film- 
making practice liberated from the traditional con- 
ventions of the medium. In Brakhage's film, the 
camera is freed from the constraints of narrative 
representation. His intensely personal iconography 

The American Independent Cinema 123 

still transcends its specificity, rendering the screen 
as a canvas of moving images. Conner acknowl- 
edges the mythic properties of the cinema as he 
appropriates all of its languages and iconographies 
and transforms them in a cinematic assemblage of 
associative references. 

The New American Cinema 
Group and Cinema 16 

The independent cinema in 1959 was coalescing 
along two lines: the personal cinema of short 
works identified with Brakhage, Bruce Baillie, Ed 
Emsh wilier, lordan Belson, Carmen D'Avino, Len 
Lye, and Joseph Cornell; and another cinema, in- 
cluding Conner, Robert Breer, Stan VanDerBeek, 
and Harry Smith, that was appropriating forms 
from the other arts, popular culture, and the mate- 
rials of everyday life to be cinematically reused in 
innovative ways. This second group of artists trans- 
formed our perception and understanding of quoti- 
dian materials and, in the process, infused the 
found object's iconographic powers with new 
meanings. This cinema included the graphic cut- 
out animation of Harry Smith's hermetic No. 12 
[Heaven and Earth Magic, The Magic Feature] 
(1958-61; Fig. 162), Stan VanDerBeek's ironic com- 
mentary on Cold War politics in Science Friction 
(1959; Fig. 163), and the free graphic line animation 
of abstraction and figuration in Robert Breer's 
films. Breer was strongly influenced by the cur- 
rents of modernism in Europe, where he had lived 
and worked as a painter before returning to New 
York in the late 1950s, and by his collaborations 
and friendships with lean Tinguely and Claes 
Oldenburg. As Breer moved between painting, 
sculpture, and film, he discovered that "films were 
very liberating. ... I wanted to see some things I'd 
never seen before. . . . For me, film was another 
medium that permitted mixing of all this extra- 
neous stuff, ideas and words and configurative ele- 
ments that I couldn't justify putting in paintings 

Independent filmmakers were engaging in an 
aesthetic discourse for film that emphasized its 
participation in contemporary art-making. Many 
filmmakers crossed over to other art forms to bor- 
row imagery and translate ideas into their own me- 

124 The American Independent Cinema 

Fig. 162. Harry Smith, No. 12 (Heaven and Earth Magic, The 
Magic Feature), 1958-61. Black and white, silent, 66 minutes. 
Still courtesy of Anthology Film Archives, New York. 




Fig. 163. Stan VanDerBeek, Science Friction, 1959. Color, 
sound, 9 minutes. Still courtesy of The American Federation 
of Arts, New York. 

dium, imbuing film with a remarkable range of 
styles, forms, and ideas — just as assemblage, Mini- 
malism, and Pop Art were redefining Off-Broadway 
theater, dance, music, painting, sculpture, and 
literature, and being redefined in turn. Ed Em- 
shwiller, for example, m Dance Chromatic (1959) 
filmed the movements of a dance and then painted 
abstractions on the film frames. Here the gestures 
of dance informed another layer of imagery. Dance 
was transformed within a cinematic space of time, 
movement, and superimposition. 

In this rich period of artistic expansion and inter- 
disciplinary cross-fertilization, new voices arose to 
champion the American independent cinema. One 
of the most articulate was that of Jonas Mekas, a 
Lithuanian immigrant and filmmaker who was to 

become the leading figure in the American inde- 
pendent cinema during the 1960s and 1970s. 
Mekas' role as a spokesman for independent film 
began in 1955 when he founded Film Culture mag- 
azine. In this journal, one can follow Mekas' shift 
from a preference for the European art film to a 
growing appreciation and advocacy of American in- 
dependent films. In 1958 Mekas also began to pub- 
lish "Movie Journal," a weekly film column in The 
Village Voice. A highly personal, poetic, and di- 
aristic commentary on the independent film scene 
in New York, it soon became the most influential 
criticism in the field. 

In 1959 Mekas established Film Culture's Inde- 
pendent Film Award to "point out original and 
unique American contributors to the cinema."^ 
The recipient of the first award was John Cas- 
savetes' Shadows {19S9; Figs. 164, 166). The loosely 
structured narrative follows a group of young peo- 
ple through New York's nightlife and jazz clubs. 
The freewheeling action is focused on a light- 
skinned black woman and her darker-skinned 
brothers. In one scene her white boyfriend meets 
her brother and confronts the realization that she is 
black. Mekas presented the award to Shadows be- 
cause in it 

Cassavetes . . . was able to break out of conven- 
tional molds and traps and retain original fresh- 
ness. The improvisation, spontaneity, and free 
inspiration that are almost entirely lost in most 
films from an excess of professionalism are fully 
used in this film. The situations and atmosphere 
of New York night life are vividly, cinematically, 
and truly caught in Shadows. It breathes an im- 
mediacy that the cinema of today vitally needs if 
it is to be a living and contemporary art.'^ 

Shadows marked the emergence of a new nar- 
rative cinema, which, although often scripted, con- 
veyed a sense of the real world. The narratives — 
frequently improvised and recorded on location in 
apartments, streets, and alleyways with hand-held 
cameras — achieved a sense of spontaneity, as if the 
story had been captured on film just as it happened. 
This semi-documentary fictional style, where ac- 
tors were filmed on location, outside of the studio, 
reflected stylistic developments taking place in 
contemporary cinema-verite documentary film- 
making. These documentaries employed the tech- 

The American Independent Cinema 125 

Fig. 164. John Cassavetes (right) and camera crew shooting scenes for 
his film Shadows, 1959. Black and white, sound, 81 minutes. Photo- 
graph courtesy of Anthology Film Archives, New York. 

Fig. 165. Ricky Leacock filming Pninary, 1960. 
Black and white, sound, 53 minutes. Photograph 
courtesy of Anthology Film Archives, New York. 

nology of the portable camera and the portable 
sound-recording system to convey immediacy: 
filmmakers directly responded to the world's 
events by taking their cameras "on location." In 
1961 Film Culture gave its third Independent Film 
Award to Primary (I960; Fig. 165), a film produced 
by Ricky Leacock, Don Pennebaker, Robert Drew, 

Fig. 166. Hugh Hurd (left), Lelia Goldoni, and 
Anthony Ray in |ohn Cassavetes' Shadows, 1959. 
Black and white, sound, 81 minutes. Still courtesy of 
Anthology Film Archives, New York. 

and Al Maysles. Mekas cites Primary, a documen- 
tary film about primary elections that focuses on 
politicians angling for votes, for its 

new cinematic techniques of recording life on 
film. [The filmmakers] have caught scenes of real 
life with unprecedented authenticity, imme- 
diacy, and truth. . . . Shadows . . . indicated new 
cinematic approaches stylistically and formally. 
Primary goes one step further: By exploring new 
camera, sound, and lighting methods, it enables 
the filmmaker to pierce deeper into the area of 
new content as well. . . . The techniques of Pri- 
mary indicate that we are entering a long- 
awaited era, when the budget for a sound film is 
the same as that of a book of poems, and when a 
filmmaker can shoot his film with sound, alone 
and by himself and unobtrusively, almost the 
same way as a poet observing a scene. . . . There 
is a feeling in the air that cinema is only just 

The juxtaposition of Shadows and Primary in a 
single statement captures something essential 
about this period. A fictional narrative feature film 
about an interracial family, two brothers and a sis- 
ter moving through the netherworld of New York 
jazz clubs, is compared cinematically to a docu- 
mentary film about the American political system. 

126 The American Independent Cinema 

Mekas' choice of award-winning films signals the 
breakdown of the traditional barriers of genre. 

Cassavetes, however, sought a wider audience 
and greater commercial success for his narrative 
cinema: later in 19S9 he re-edited Shadows and 
rereleased the film in a different version. To Mekas, 
"the second version of Shadows is just another Hol- 
lywood film — however inspired, at moments — 
[whereas] the first version is the most frontier- 
breaking American feature film in at least a de- 
cade." ^^ Cassavetes' repudiation of his first version 
as "too arty" reflected his ambivalent feelings 
about the rawness of its style and the deep division 
that existed between different forms of filmmaking 
and the audiences they spoke to. Cassavetes soon 
moved to Hollywood and achieved success within 
the commercial film world. This same path was 
later followed by other filmmakers, such as Brian 
De Palma, who explored new forms in independent 
cinema before going on to become directors of en- 
tertainment films, thus carrying the techniques of 
the new cinema to Hollywood. 

Shadows and such productions as Shirley 
Clarke's The Connection (1961) and The Cool 
World (1963), Lionel Rogosin's Come Back Africa 
(1958), Morris Engels' Weddings and Babies (1958), 
The Savage Eye (1959) by Ben Maddow, Joseph 
Strick, and Sidney Meyers, and Pull My Daisy 
(1959) by Robert Frank and Alfred Leslie sparked 
the formation on September 28, 1960, of the New 
American Cinema Group. The first meeting in- 
cluded twenty-three independent filmmakers 

brought together by Lewis Allen (producer of The 
Connection] and Jonas Mekas; a temporary ex- 
ecutive board was elected that included Shirley 
Clarke, Emile De Antonio, Edward Bland, Mekas, 
and Allen. The New American Cinema Group did 
not identify itself with any "aesthetic" school and 
was open to anyone. Its manifesto outlined a 
number of goals, among them: 

1. We believe that cinema is indivisibly a per- 
sonal expression. We, therefore, reject the in- 
terference of producers, distributors, and in- 
vestors until our work is ready to be 
projected on the screen. 

2. We reject censorship. . . . 

3. We are seeking new forms of financing, 
working toward a reorganization of film in- 
vesting methods, setting up the basis for a 
free film industry. . . . 

4. The New American Cinema is abolishing 
the Budget Myth. . . . The low budget is not 
a purely commercial consideration. It goes 
with our ethical and aesthetic beliefs. . . . 

5. We'll take a stand against the present dis- 
tribution-exhibition policies. . . . 

6. We plan to establish our own cooperative dis- 
tribution center. . . . 

7. It's about time the East Coast had its own 
film festival. . . . 

8. We shall meet with the unions to work out 
more reasonable [requirements for smaller- 
budget films], similar to those existing Off- 
Broadway — a system based on the size and 
the nature of the production. 

9. We pledge to put aside a certain percentage of 
our film profits, so as to build up a fund that 
would be used to help our members finish 
films or stand as a guarantor for the laborato- 



Fig. 167. Peter Orlovsky, Gregory Corso, and Allen Ginsberg 
in Robert Frank and Alfred Leslie's Pull My Daisy, 1959. 
Black and white, sound, 29 minutes. Still courtesy of the 
Walker Art Center, Minneapolis. 

This manifesto of the New American Cinema 
Group laid out for the first time a set of goals that 
was to serve as a model for future generations of 
independent filmmakers. It extended the purview 
of independent filmmaking into all areas of produc- 
tion, distribution, and exhibition. These ambitions 
were encouraged by the considerable media atten- 
tion given to the new films; film critics recognized 
a freshness and immediacy in these works that had 
not been seen before in commercial cinema. 

The American Independent Cinema 127 


Fig. 168. Ron Rice, The 
Flower Thief, 1960. Black 
and white, sound, 75 min- 
utes. Frames courtesy of 
Anthology Film Archives. 

There were a number of important interdisci- 
plinary collaborations within this group of film- 
makers, including that between the painter Alfred 
Leslie and the photographer Robert Frank. Frank's 
collection of photographs, The Americans, pub- 
lished in 1959, was to revolutionize the art of pho- 
tography as it conveyed an immediate and vibrant 
impression of the edges of daily life. Frank and 
Leslie co-directed Pull My Daisy (Fig. 167), the key 
Beat film of its generation. This film featured lack 
Kerouac, Allen Ginsberg, Gregory Corso, Peter Or- 
lovsky, and Alice Neel in a story loosely con- 
structed from improvisational antics and spon- 
taneous scenes. It creates a disjointed narrative 
around a couple and the poets and artists who drift 
in and out of their loft and lives. The Beat sen- 
sibility of anarchic fun and self-parody inspires the 

lively action of Pull My Daisy. In awarding the 
work Film Culture's second Independent Film 
Award, Mekas links the attitude of the film to the 
look of the film itself, citing its 

modernity and its honesty, its sincerity and its 
humility, its imagination and its humor, its 
youth, its freshness, and its truth [which are] 
without comparison in our last year's pompous 
cinematic production. In its camera work, it 
effectively breaks with the accepted and 1000- 
year-old official rules of slick polished Alton Y 
Co. cinematographic schmaltz. It breathes an 
immediacy that the cinema of today vitally 
needs if it is to be a living and contemporary art.'-* 

The spirit of anarchy in these films reflected 
their production process. Ron Rice's The Flower 

128 The American Independent Cniema 

Thief {I960; Fig. 168) follows actor Taylor Mead as 
he moves through assorted landscapes and mi- 
provises encounters with a variety of people and 
objects. Such films were largely derived from the 
unscripted experience of the production itself — an 
ongoing dialogue between the filmmaker and actor 
that was guided only by the framework of a loca- 
tion and the sketchy idea of a gag or story. This 
same attitude is found in Hallelujah the Hills 
(1963), by Adolf as Mekas, Jonas' brother, m which a 
band of mtrepid New Yorkers cavorts through the 
countryside in an improvised love triangle that par- 
odies the then fashionable high seriousness of Eu- 
ropean art films. 

In these independent films actors are not di- 
rected; rather, they creatively collaborate with the 
filmmaker. This practice of collaboration extended 
to other disciplines as well. Shirley Clarke's The 
Connection (Figs. 169, 170) is based on Jack 
Gelber's revolutionary Off-Broadway play and 
voiced an underground sensibility of protest 
against the hypocrisy of the time. Clarke translated 
Gelber's play into a powerful film about the filming 
of a documentary. We follow the actions of a group 
of drug addicts waiting in a room for their fix — as 
they are being filmed by a documentary film unit 
which, in order to film them, has given the junkies 
the money they need for their drugs. The claus- 
trophobic environment and the hostility of the ad- 
dicts, often directed to the camera, are startlingly 
real. By opening up the film to include the film- 
maker, Clarke achieved a dramatic realism. In this 
compelling re-creation of the drug world, the lan- 
guage of the playwright and the vision of the film- 
maker merge into a synthesis of drama and 

The New American Cinema eventually floun- 
dered as a movement — by 1962 the filmmakers 
went their separate ways, pursuing individual proj- 
ects and interests in different parts of the country. 
In addition to their landmark films, however, the 
Group could claim some success in establishing 
new outlets for all forms of independent film. As 
the Group's initial manifesto had declared, dis- 
tribution and exhibition were integrally related to 
continued efforts to produce new work; since the- 
atrical distribution was dominated by the major 
commercial conglomerates, the independents were 
forced to seek other outlets to reach audiences. 

Fig. 169. Shirley Clarke, The Connection, 1961. Black and 
white, sound, 100 minutes. Still courtesy of Anthology Film 

maintain dialogues with other artists, and remain 
financially solvent. 

During this period, the leading exhibition pro- 
gram in New York City devoted to the independent 
cinema was Cinema 16. From 1949 to 1963, this 
independent showcase, under the direction of 
Amos Vogel, exhibited regularly scheduled film 
programs every Sunday and Wednesday. Included in 
its programs were many of the films associated 
with the New American Cinema Group. The pro- 
grams were varied and eclectic, often focusing on 
such topics as censorship and racism and organiz- 
ing features and short-length films — narrative, 
avant-garde, scientific, and documentary works — 
into one-artist, group, and thematic programs. One 
program on the elevated trains included documen- 
taries as well as Stan Brakhage's The Wonder Ring 
(1955), a lyrical meditation on the light and spaces 
of the el. 

Cinema 16, a nonprofit organization, attracted a 
large and loyal following who supported the pro- 
grams and carefully prepared program notes 
through donations and memberships; Cinema 16 
also held symposia, panel discussions, and lectures 
on independent film. It received considerable press 
attention and was recognized as the key public out- 
let for independent and foreign films. But by 1963, 
unable to maintain its operation at increased costs. 
Cinema 16 was forced to close. There was, more- 
over, additional competition in New York from 
television and from the growing number of other 
showcases for alternative film programming, which 

Fig. 170. Shirley Clarke, The Connection, 1961. Black and 
white, sound, 100 minutes. Still courtesy of Anthology Film 

attracted a new generation of viewers and film- 
makers. In 1963 Vogel helped to establish the first 
New York Film Festival at Lincoln Center; he con- 
tinued to distribute the Cinema 16 film catalogue 
until he sold it to Grove Press in 1966. 

As the New American Cinema Group had stated 
in its manifesto, there was a great need for alter- 
native systems of distribution and exhibition. In 
1960 Bruce Baillie had formed the Canyon Cinema 
in San Francisco to screen independent films. In 
New York, Jonas Mekas became involved with the 
weekend midnight screenings at the Charles The- 
ater, established by Walter Langford and Sol Stein 
in 1961. These programs featured independent 
work, including the premieres of films by Ron 
Rice, Stan VanDerBeek, Robert Breer, Harry Smith, 
Marie Menken, Brian De Palma, and Ed Em- 
shwiller. Jazz concerts and art exhibitions in the 
lobby complemented the films and added an air of 
openness that reflected the interdisciplinary inter- 
ests of avant-garde artists. Mekas suggested to the 
theater owners that they hold monthly open 
screenings to which filmmakers could bring their 
latest titles; the advocacy of open screenings — the 
spirit of tolerance for the new — was the major 
legacy of the Charles Theater, which closed for fi- 
nancial reasons in 1962. The often vociferous am- 
bience of these screenings expressed the fluidity of 
this period in film history, when artists, film- 
makers, poets, painters, and musicians mingled, ar- 
gued, and learned from one another's efforts and 

The American Independent Cinema 129 

In 1962 Jonas Mekas played an instrumental role 
in establishing the Film-Makers' Cooperative in 
New York, a profit-sharing, nonexclusive national 
distribution system which accepted all filmmakers 
who sought an outlet for their films. The Charles 
Theater experience became a model for the Film- 
Makers' Cinematheque program, which was also 
established in 1962 and first showed programs at 
the Charles Theater before it closed. Every Monday 
night, "independent, dependent, abstract, neodada, 
collage, decollage, home, absurd, zen, etc. movies" 
were shown.''' The programs included one-artist 
retrospectives of filmmakers from New York and 
the West Coast and premieres of Brakhage's 
Dog Star Man: Part I (1962) and The Sin of 
Jesus (1961) by Robert Frank. After the close of 
the Charles Theater, the Cinematheque organized 
Monday night exhibitions at the Bleecker Street 
Theater, from which its members were eventual- 
ly barred in 1963 because the theater owners did 
not want to be associated with its "controversial" 

The history of alternative film screenings in 
New York reflects the nomadic life of the indepen- 
dent film exhibition and its lack of permanence. 
The press, drawn to the novelty and controversy of 
these works, covered many of the Cinematheque 
festivals and recognized a newly emerging, low- 
budget independent feature cinema. However, 
there was also controversy and debate within the 
independent film community itself. The establish- 
ment of the Film-Makers' Cinematheque not only 
reflected the original goals of the New American 
Cinema Group — to promote new outlets for inde- 
pendent film — but stemmed in part from a falling- 
out between Mekas and Vogel over Vogel's failure 
to screen Brakhage's Anticipation of the Night at 
Cinema 16. Jonas Mekas' greater emphasis on non- 
narrative films — the work of Stan Brakhage and 
others — and his open screening approach were op- 
posed to Amos Vogel's programming policy. More- 
over, the abstract imagery and nonlinear form of 
Anticipation of the Night — made more provocative 
by its forty-minute running time — were problem- 
atic for a showcase that emphasized subject matter 
in film. The new aesthetic articulated in Anticipa- 
tion of the Night posed a challenge for distribution 
and exhibition outlets accustomed to narratives 
with identifiable subjects."' 

130 The American Independent Cinema 

Kenneth Anger and Jack Smith 

The major achievement of independent cinema in 
this period was its realization of new forms, styles, 
and contents for filmmaking. These independent 
films are notable for their variety, extending from 
Brakhage's lyrical cinema to Conner's transforma- 
tion of found footage to new narrative genres re- 
lated to avant-garde theater and literature. 

Kenneth Anger grew up m Hollywood and as a 
child acted in Max Reinhardt's Hollywood produc- 
tion of A Midsummer Night's Dream. In 1960 An- 
ger published Hollywood Babylon, a scandalous 
history of the underworld of the "movie capital." 
Three years later. Anger produced Scorpio Rising 


-^M ^ 

I Hi 

«• <• * * 

Fig. 171. Kenneth Anger, Scorpio Rising, 1963. Color, sound, 
29 minutes. Still courtesy of The American Federation of 


Fig. 172. Kenneth Anger, Scorpio Rising, 1963. Color, sound, 
29 minutes. Still courtesy of The American Federation of 

(Figs. 171, 172), one of the best-known and most 
influential films of the independent cinema. A 
sound track of thirteen pop songs is heard over a 
montage of the private and public rituals of a 
motorcycle gang. Although Scorpio Rising was not 
the first independent film to unite pop hits with 
visuals (Bruce Conner's Cosmic Ray of 1961 has 
that honor), it is a singular work which weaves the 
private actions and paraphernalia of a leather-jack- 
eted motorcycle gang with images of public myth- 
ology such as Western movies, Jesus Christ from a 
Hollywood epic, and Marlon Brando in The Wild 
One. "Slowly, without hurrying, in poisonously 
sensuous colors, Anger shows, or more truly lets 
the subject reveal itself, bit by bit, motion by mo- 
tion, detail by detail, belts, knobs, chrome, chests, 
pedals, rings, boots, leather jackets, rituals and 
mysteries of the motorcycle youth, steel and 
chrome perversions."'^ The underlying theme is 
sexual violence. The perverse appropriation of the 
icons of popular culture and history — James Dean, 
Marlon Brando, Hitler, Stalin — is also found in the 
work of the Beat poets (Ginsberg, Corso), play- 
wrights (Gelber), and visual artists (Oldenburg, 
Kaprow). It is a strategy designed to expose the hid- 
den messages in the images and conventions of the 
mass media. "A conjuration of the Presiding Prin- 
ces, Angels, and spirits of the Sphere of mars, 
formed as a 'high' view of the Myth of the Amer- 
ican Motorcyclist. The Power Machine seen as a 
tribal totem, from toy to terror. Thanatos in 
chrome and black leather and bursting jeans." '*^ 

Controversy surrounded both Scorpio Rising and 
Jack Smith's Flaming Creatures (1963). The public 
viewed them as obscene "underground films"; they 
revealed an outrageous world which, unlike the 
"movies," did not present the conventional nar- 
ratives offered in such current films as Lawrence of 
Arabia (1962) or Cleopatra (1963). This issue of 
censorship was topical and highly public in the arts 
of this period. Jonas Mekas reported on June 18, 

A verdict was passed in the New York Criminal 
Court last Friday that Jack Smith's film Flaming 
Creatures is obscene. A similar decision was 
passed by the Los Angeles court on Kenneth An- 
ger's film Scorpio Rising. In practical terms, 
what this means is this: From now on, at least in 
these two cities, it will be a crime to show either 

Fig. 173. Jack Smith, Flaming Creatures, 1963. Black and 
white, sound, 45 minutes. 

Fig. 174. Jack Smith, Flaming Creatures, 1963. Black and 
white, sound, 45 minutes. 

Flaming Creatures or Scorpio Rising, either pub- 
licly or privately. ... 

During the trial, we had offered — through our- 
selves and through Lewis Allen, Willard van 
Dyke, Herman G. Weinberg, Susan Sontag, 
Shirley Clarke, Joseph Raster, Allen Ginsberg, 
Dr. E. Hornick, and Dr. John Thompson — to ex- 
plain some of the meanings of Flaming Creatures 
and to give some insight into the meaning of art 
in general. The court chose to ignore us; it pre- 
ferred to judge the film by what it called "the 
community standards." ''^ 

The American Independent Cinema 131 

In its confrontation with the censorship laws and 
its proclamation of a liberated cinema of out- 
rageous images, Jack Smith's Flaming Creatures 
(Figs. 173, 174) became the cause celebre of inde- 
pendent cinema. Unlike Scorpio Rising, it is not 
constructed as a complex intellectual montage of 
symbols and iconography. Susan Sontag described 
the film: 

In Flaming Creatures, a couple of women and a 
much larger number of men, most of them clad 
in flamboyant thrift-shop women's clothes, frolic 
about, pose and posture, dance with one another, 
enact various scenes of voluptuousness, sexual 
frenzy, romance, and vampirism . . . the group 
rape of a bosomy young woman, rape happily 
cavorting itself into an orgy. Of course Flaming 
Creatures is outrageous, and intends to be. The 
very title tells us that.^° 

Jack Smith stands as a major figure who, with his 
collaborator Ken Jacobs in Blonde Cobra (1959-63) 
and Little Stabs at Happiness (1958-63) and in his 
own Flaming Creatures, created a cinema that de- 
liberately destroyed conventional narrative plots 
and structures. Using costumes and imaginary 
scenes drawn from such cult Hollywood figures as 
Maria Montez and Marlene Dietrich, Smith and his 
performers stripped away the narrative of the 
movie myths to reveal the visual texture and erotic 
subtext of the "dream factory," a mise-en-scene 
roughened by Smith's use of old (and cheap) film 
stocks, faded celluloid that produced ghostlike 
penumbras around the images of his imaginary 

The fascination that Jack Smith had for Hol- 
lywood mythology extended beyond the movie sto- 
ries and plots. These narratives masked the real 
intrigue on the screen. Smith looked to the sets, 
lighting, makeup, and costumes as distinctive ele- 
ments in the vision of the director. The movies and 
their stars were to Jack Smith a mythopoeic world 
of desires expressing the extravagant wishes of 
their directors. Smith's perception of Hollywood 
films, a view which defines his aesthetic, is per- 
haps best expressed in his description of von Stern- 
berg directing Marlene Dietrich. -i It also reveals 
how Smith viewed himself directing his own films, 
the world he saw in his imagination and through 
his camera. 

132 The American Independent Cinema 

[Von Sternberg's] expression was of the erotic 
realm — the neurotic gothic deviated sex-colored 
world and it was a turning inside out of himself 
and magnificent. You had to use your eyes to 
know this tho because the sound track babbled 
inanities — it alleged Dietrich was an honest 
jewel thief, noble floosie, fallen woman, etc. to 
cover up the visuals. In the visuals she was none 
of those. She was V.S. himself. A flaming neu- 
rotic — nothing more or less — no need to know 
she was rich, poor, innocent, guilty, etc. Your eye 
if you could use it told you more interesting 
things (facts?) than those. Dietrich was his visual 
projection — a brilliant transvestite in a world of 
delirious unreal adventures. Thrilled by his/her 
own movement — by superb taste in light, cos- 
tumery, textures, movement, subject and cam- 
era, subject camera/revealing faces — in fact all 
revelation but visual revelation. -- 

The extravagant sensibility of Smith's cinema of- 
fers a new vision of American myth as re-enacted 
by a troupe of transvestites, male and female per- 
sonae shuffled and reshuffled within the stage of 
the screen. Smith's mercurial character and cinema 
of sexual ambiguities made him a unique figure in 
the independent cinema and an influence on Andy 
Warhol's development as a filmmaker. Warhol and 
other artists — among them, Claes Oldenburg and 
Ken Jacobs — were attracted to the "on the edge" 
sensibility, the problematic procedures of produc- 
tion and performance, the energy of the unknown. 
Smith's sets were like the Happenings of Kaprow, 
only more perverse. The exchange between theater 
and film resulted from the mixed group of artists 
who acted in the films and the scenarios they fre- 
quently contributed to the films' production. 

Andy Warhol 

Andy Warhol's entry into film was shaped by his 
friendships and encounters in the society of the art 
world, especially the Off-Broadway theater. At 
Ronald Tavel's Theater of the Ridiculous he met 
the actor Taylor Mead, who had performed in Ron 
Rice's films and later traveled with Warhol to Cali- 
fornia. Warhol also developed friendships with 
filmmakers such as Emile De Antonio and Jack 

Smith. Smith was the subject of one of Warhol's 
first films (Andy Warhol Films Jack Smith Filming 
"Normal Love," 1963) and acted in Warhol's 1964 
Batman Dracula. 

Andy Warhol, in addition to following the im- 
provisational and outrageous cinema of Ron Rice 
and Jack Smith, was intensely interested in other 
aspects of the independent film world. He regularly 
attended screenings at the Film-Makers' Cinema- 
theque, where his first films were premiered by 
Jonas Mekas. However, the films that Warhol began 
to produce in 1963 were distinctly his own. Warhol 
turned his camera onto the world around him and 
remade it on film by destroying the conventions of 
filmmaking and expectations of filmgoing. War- 
hol's cinema, unlike that of other independent 
filmmakers, did not use complex editing strategies, 
seek out new locations and actors, refashion found 
footage together with sound tracks, construct elab- 
orate narratives, or satirize other film styles and 
genres; neither did he trouble to explain his films 
in manifestos. Rather, in Warhol's studio. The Fac- 
tory, he fabricated a myth around a life-style ex- 
emplified by Baudelairean remove, his cool detach- 
ment from the world around him. Warhol 
transformed himself and his art into a single aes- 
thetic social presence, which became the work of 
art. In his films he extended Duchamp's strategy of 
isolating the found object as art by placing within 
the camera's frame whatever chanced to occur be- 
fore it and turning this found imagery into cinema. 
The hangers-on who assembled in his studio be- 
came the players in his films. Warhol's 16mm Bolex 
was a silent eye recording a culture of styles and 
gestures, "superstars" and "scenes" — the "cool" life- 
style of the 1960s. It was a new cinema which in its 
raw and naive energy became a powerful presence 
in the independent film. 

In his films and in his art, Warhol was fascinated 
with the borders between the real and the re- 
produced worlds. As he simply painted a Camp- 
bell's soup can, so he simply placed the camera on a 
tripod in The Factory, recording at the push of a 
button individuals and events as they chanced to 
happen. Because there were no planned scenarios, 
no directions, the camera — and by extension, the 
filmmaker — became passive spectators. People 
who visited The Factory were asked to sit for their 
portraits before the stationary camera; they were in 

The American Independent Cinema 133 

Fig. 175. Robert Indiana in Andy Warhol's Eat, 1963. Black 
and white, silent, 45 minutes. Frames courtesy of Anthology 
Film Archives. 

a sense appropriated by the camera and entered 
through it into Warhol's world. 

The titles of Warhol's first films {Kiss, Eat, and 
Sleep in 1963 and Couch, Empire, and Blow fob in 
1964) are in their conceptual simplicity Minimalist 
expressions of a direct cinema of representation. 
However, just as Warhol's silkscreens and paintings 
are not slick representations of soup cans and head- 
lines, the films are not polished recordings of ac- 
tion. There is no sound track in Kiss, Eat, and 
Sleep, and the film is projected not at 24 frames per 
second but at silent speed — 16 fps — thus further 
retarding the minimal action. There is a tension 
within these films between their structure, the 
method of filming, and the action. The six-hour 
film Sleep shows John Giorno on a couch in various 
positions of sleep. Warhol further elongates the ac- 
tion, recorded on 100-foot rolls of film, by repeating 
filmed segments through loop printing; the con- 
cluding image is a frozen still of the final shot. 
Kiss, originally shown as a serial, features a se- 

quence of couples kissing in close-up, each couple 
lasting for one roll of film, and includes Warhol 
regulars Naomi Levine, Gerard Malanga, Baby Jane 
Holzer, and John Palmer, in addition to the artist 
Marisol, art critic Pierre Restany, and poet Ed 
Sanders. In November 1963, Warhol filmed Eat (Fig. 
175), which showed Robert Indiana slowly eating 
one mushroom. Time figures strongly in this work: 
a simple action is repeated and slowed down by 
loop printing, frozen frames, and a retarded projec- 
tion speed. 

Warhol and his associates knew nothing of the 
technical requirements of filmmaking — editing, 
lighting, sound, camera movement. In a sense he 
pressed the lens against the real world and became 
fused with it. It is not what the film is about but 
that the film is. The action is refined through a 
new sense of cinematic time; real time is presented 
as a continuous presence. The 100-foot rolls of film 
that make up each title can be likened to serial 

Fig. 176. Andy Warhol, Blow fob, 1963. Black and white, 
silent, 30 minutes. Frames courtesy of Anthology Film 


134 The American Independent Cinema 

imagery, each roll a piece of time separated by light 
flashes at the end and beginning, like Warhol's se- 
rial silkscreens with their rough edges and ac- 
knowledgment of process and materials. This di- 
alogue between the camera and time reached an 
apotheosis in Empire, an eight-hour shot of the Em- 
pire State Building, from night to morning, filmed 
on June 25, 1964, from the forty-fourth floor of the 
Time-Life Building. In Couch, which "stars," 
among others, Gerard Malanga, Gregory Corso, Al- 
len Ginsberg, Ondine, Jack Kerouac, and Taylor 
Mead, the camera framing the couch is stationary; 
it shows "a nude woman on a couch [trying] to get a 
man's attention. Later, there is much banana eat- 
ing, and love-making attempts are seen, man to 
man, as other men sit in front of the couch, or walk 
around it." ^■^ 

The cinema of Andy Warhol is a cinema of obser- 
vation that shapes a discourse out of the geography 
of the human body. Blow fob (Fig. 176) presents a 
young man's face while someone, unseen by the 
camera, performs fellatio on him. Here the film 
represents the revelation of desire, an ecstatic re- 
sponse that was to become an emblem of a new 
cinema and life-style. 

Warhol's cinema is a dialogue with the world, 
mediated through film in its rawest possible state. 
Just as Warhol transformed the fabricated world of 
consumer images by the style of his paintings and 
prints, so in his films he acknowledged the me- 
dium and the mirror of the camera's lens. In 1964 
he received Film Culture's sixth Independent Film 
Award for his films Sleep, Eat, Haircut, Kiss, and 
Empire. As Jonas Mekas wrote in the citation: 

Andy Warhol is taking cinema back to its origins, 
to the days of Lumiere, for a rejuvenation and 
cleansing. In his work, he has abandoned all the 
"cinematic" form and subject adornments that 
cinema had gathered around itself until now.-^"* 

Mekas argues that Warhol offers an epistemology 
of seeing through film since 

we see it sharper than before. Not in dramatic, 
rearranged contexts and meanings, not in the ser- 
vice of something else (even Cinema Verite did 
not escape this subjection of the objective reality 
to ideas) but as pure as it is in itself: eating as 
eating, sleeping as sleeping, haircut as haircut.^'' 

Fig. 177. Wolf Vostell, TV-De-Collage, 1963. South 
Brunswick, New Jersey. Photograph by Peter Moore. 

This emphasis on an "unadorned" cinema echoes 
Mekas' citations in his awards to Cassavetes' Shad- 
ows and Leacock's Primary. Warhol opened the 
lens of his camera in a direct observation of the 
culture of his decade. 

Fig. 178. Wolf Vostell, TV-De-Collage, 1963. Smolin Gallery, 
New York. Photograph by Peter Moore. 

Independent Film and the 
Arrival of Video 

The history of the independent film from 1958 to 
1964 represents an extraordinary period of creative 
achievement that had a lasting influence on the 
Ariierican film. The efforts of filmmakers to orga- 
nize the distribution and exhibition of their films 
set a model for the future of independent film. The 
period encompasses an enormous range of genres — 
narrative, nonnarrative, documentary, animation — 
and of styles — abstract, representational, and mini- 
mal — in films that ran from three minutes to eight 
hours. The structural cinema that was to dominate 
the avant-garde of the 1970s had its origins in War- 
hol's static camera and limitless stare, perhaps best 
articulated in his monumental Empire. 

In the years following 1964, independent film- 
makers would also see enormous increases in the 
support they received on state, federal, and private 
levels. The Ford Foundation in 1964 awarded its 
first grants to filmmakers, signaling the growing 
recognition of these films by established institu- 
tions. Fiowever, controversy continued, as wit- 
nessed by the arrest of Jonas Mekas for the public 
showing of Flaming Creatures in 1964. It was such 
individual efforts on behalf of fellow artists that 
solidified the community of filmmakers and guar- 
anteed its future. 

The American Independent Cinema 135 

with a framed painting, thus transforming the tele- 
vision into a new object and radically altering our 
perception of its uses. In 1964 Paik moved to New 
York City and the following year acquired the 
newly developed portable videotape recorder 
which, like the 16mm Bolex in the 1940s, revolu- 
tionized the medium by making it accessible to 
artists. Paik, over the next twenty years, became 
the leading advocate of this new art form. 

Thus at the close of the period 1958-64 a new 
moving image medium entered the culture; the 
aesthetics of independent film, Fluxus, Happen- 
ings, and Pop had helped to make that crossover 
possible. But the open interchange of media was 
shortlived: in the late 1960s and 1970s film and 
video went their separate ways. It was not until the 
1980s that artists in both media would look at and 
learn from each other's work, creating a dialogue 
that cut across traditional boundaries. As this di- 
alogue between artists and art forms is developing, 
as the aesthetics of film and video respond to the 
pressures of changing technologies, it may be 
useful to recall that the openness of film culture in 
the years 1958 to 1964 released an extraordinary 
body of work. 

During this same period a new medium was intro- 
duced into art-making. Television, then beginning 
to challenge the dominance of the commercial film 
industry, was appropriated by two Fluxus artists. 
Wolf Vostell and Nam June Paik. In 1963 Paik had 
his first one-artist exhibition, which included thir- 
teen transformed television sets, at the Galerie Par- 
nass in Wuppertal, West Germany. In that same 
year the Yam Festival, organized by Robert Watts, 
George Brecht, and Allan Kaprow, included 
Vostell's destroyed and buried televisions at George 
Segal's farm in New Jersey (Fig. 177; and p. 56) and 
a roomful of altered televisions at the Smolin Gal- 
lery in New York (Fig. 178). This latter installation 
marked the first time in America that televisions 
were incorporated into an art installation. Each of 
the televisions, altered electronically, was deco- 
rated with barbed wire, and its surface covered 


1. Stan Brakhage, quoted in P. Adams Sitney, Visionary Film: The 
American Avant-Garde (New York: Oxford University Press, 1974), 
p. 183. 

2. Andy Warhol, quoted in Jonas Mekas, "Notes after Reseeing 
the Movies of Andy Warhol," in Andy Warhol, ed. John Coplans 
(Greenwich, Connecticut: Ucw York Graphic Society, 1970), 
p. 139. 

3. Allan Kaprow, "The Principles of Modern Art," It Is, 4 (Autumn 
1959), p. 51. 

4. Maya Deren, quoted in Sitney, Visionary Film, p. 9. 

5. Ibid. 

6. Sherman Paul, The Lost America of Love: Rereading Robert 
Creeley. Edward Dorn, and Robert Duncan (Baton Rouge: Louisi- 
ana State University Press, 1981), p. xiii. 

7. Stan Brakhage, quoted in Sitney, Visionary Film, p. 181. 

8. Robert Breer, quoted in Stuart Liebman, "Program 2," in 
A History of the American Avant-Garde Cinema, exhibition 
catalogue (New York: The American Federation of Arts, 1976), 
p. 93. 

9. Jonas Mekas, "Appendix: The Independent Film Award," in Film 
Culture Reader, ed. P. Adams Sitney (New York: Praeger Publishers, 
1970), p. 423. 

10. Ibid., pp. 423-24. 

11. Ibid., pp. 424-25. 

12. Jonas Mekas, Movie Journal: The Rise of the New American 
Cinema. 1959-1971 (New York: Collier Books, 1972), p. 10. 

13. "The First Statement of the New American Cinema Group," in 
Film Culture Reader, pp. 81-82. 

14. Mekas, "Appendix: The Independent Film Award," p. 424. 

15. Quoted from Film-Makers' Showcase program note at the 
Bleecker Street Cinema, 

16. Even though Vogel did not exhibit Brakhage's new film, he 
eventually did distribute Anticipation of the Night through the 
Cinema 16 catalogue. 

17. Mekas, Movie fournal, pp. 108-9. 

18. Kenneth Anger, quoted in Sitney, Visionary Film, p. 116. 

19. Mekas, Movie fournal, pp. 141-42. 

20. Susan Sontag, quoted in Carel Rowe, The Baudelairean Cin- 
ema: A Trend within the American Avant-Garde (Ann Arbor, 
Michigan: UMl Research Press, 1982), p. 127. 

21. "Nowhere has Jack Smith spoken as well about himself," wrote 
Sitney, Visionary Film, p. 391. 

22. Jack Smith, quoted in ibid. 

23. Jonas Mekas, "The Filmography of Andy Warhol," in Andy 
Warhol, p. 148. 

24. Mekas, "Appendix: The Independent Film Award," p. 427. 

25. Ibid. 


Compiled by Susan J. Cooke 

A listing of selected exhibitions and selected Happenings/ Performances is followed by a filmography of independent films 
presented during the years 1958 to 1964. Catalogues and reviews published after 1964 are included in the Bibliography section. 

Selected Exhibitions and Reviews 


Leo Castelli Gallery, New York. "Jasper Johns" (paintings of 
flags and targets). January 20-February 8, 1958. 

P[orter], Fjairfield). "Reviews and Previews: Jasper Johns." 
Art News, 56 (January 1958), p. 20. 

R[osenblum|, R|obert|. "In the Galleries: Jasper Johns." Arts, 
32 (January 1958), pp. 54-55. 

Hansa Gallery, New York. "George Segal" (paintings and 
pastels). February 17-March 8, 1958. 

A[shbery], J|ohn]. "Reviews and Previews: George Segal." 
Art News, 56 (February 1958), p. 5. 

D[ash], R. Wjarrenj. "In the Galleries: George Segal." Arts, 
32 (February 1958), pp. 57-58. 

Leo Castelli Gallery, New York. "Robert Rauschenberg" (com- 
bine-paintings). March 4-29, 1958. 

A|shbery], Jlohnj. "Five Shows Out of the Ordinary: Robert 
Rauschenberg." Art News, 57 (March 1958), pp. 40, 56, 57. 

Rice, Dustin. "Art: Enfant Terrible." The Village Voice, 
March 12, 1958, p. 12. 

Hansa Gallery, New York. "Allan Kaprow" (environment with 
sound and light). March 10-29, 1958. 

P[arker|, T[yler]. "Reviews and Previews: Allan Kaprow." 

Art News, 57 (May 1958), p. 14. 

Hansa Gallery, New York. "Allan Kaprow" (environment with 
sound, light, and odors). November 25-December 13, 1958. 
Brochure with essay by the artist. 

Kramer, Hilton. "Month in Review." Arts, 33 (January 1959), 
p. 50. 

P|orter|, F[airfield). "Reviews and Previews: Allan Kaprow." 
Art News, 57 (January 1959), pp. 11-12. 


Hansa Gallery, New York. "Robert Whitman" (three-dimen- 
sional multimedia constructions). January 12-30, 1959. 

P[orter|, Fjairfield]. "Reviews and Previews: New Names 
This Month — Robert Whitman." Art News, 57 (January 
1959), p. 18. 

T|illiml, S|idney|. "In the Galleries: Robert Whitman." Arts, 
33 (March 1959), p. 63. 

Hansa Gallery, New York. "George Segal" (paintings, life-size 
plaster figures, drawings). February 2—21, 1959. 

S|chuyler], J|ames). "Reviews and Previews: George Segal." 
Art News, 57 (February 1959), p. 16. 

T[illiml, S[idney]. "In the Galleries: George Segal." Arts, 33 
(February 1959), pp. 57-58. 

City Gallery, New York. "Jay Milder and Red Grooms" (figur- 
ative paintings m an expressionist style). February 6-March 
1, 1959. 

H[ale], H[erbert] D. "Reviews and Previews: New Names 
This Month — Milder and Grooms." Art News, 57 (February 
1959), p. 18. 

Judson Gallery, Judson Memorial Church, New York. "Jim 
Dine, Marc Ratliff, Tom Wesselmann" (paintings, drawings, 
and collages). February 14-March 7, 1959. 

Judson Gallery, Judson Memorial Church, New York. "Draw- 
ings, Sculptures, Poems by Claes Oldenburg" [papier-mache 
figurative constructions and sketches of the nude). May 22— 
June 10, 1959. 

Dunsterville, Harriet. "Art Reviews." The Villager, June 4, 
1959, p. 10. 

Condon Riley Gallery, New York. "Roy Lichtenstein" (paint- 
ings in an Abstract Expressionist style). June 2-27, 1959. 

D|e) M[ott|, H|elen|. "In the Galleries: Roy Lichtenstein." 
Arts, 33 (June 1959), p. 66. 

Reuben Gallery, New York. "George Brecht: Towards 
Events — An Arrangement" (assemblage objects with instruc- 
tions for performances). October 16-November 5, 1959. 

D|ennison], G|eorge|. "In the Galleries: George Brecht." 
Arts, 34 (December 1959), pp. 69-70. 

H|ayes], Rlichard). "Reviews and Previews: George Brecht." 
Art News, 58 (December 1959), p. 22. 

Reuben Gallery, New York. "Lucas Samaras" (paintings and 
pastels). November 6-26, 1959. 

M|eyer], A|rline] J. "Reviews and Previews: Lucas Samaras." 
Art News, 58 (November 1959), p. 65. 

V[entura], A[nita). "In the Galleries: Lucas Samaras." Arts, 
34 (December 1959), p. 59. 

Judson Gallery, Judson Memorial Church, New York. "Dine/ 
Oldenburg" (two-artist exhibition, paintings and drawings). 
November 13-December 3, 1959. 

V|entura], A[nita]. "In the Galleries: Claes Oldenburg, 
James Dine." Arts, 34 (December 1959), p. 59. 

Reuben Gallery, New York. "Robert Whitman" (multimedia 
constructions and collage paintings). November 27-Decem- 
ber 7, 1959. 

D|ennison|, G[eorge]. "In the Galleries: Robert Whitman." 
Arts, 34 (December 1959), p. 69. 


138 Chronology 

H|aycsl, R|ichard|. "Reviews and Previews: Robert Whit- 
man." Art News, 58 (Deeember 1959), p. 20. 

Bodley Gallery, New York. "Wild Raspberries by Andy War- 
hol" (drawings of food). Deeember 1-24, 1959. 

Preston, Stuart. "Art; North of the Border." The New York 
Times, December 5, 1959, p. 20. 

The Museum of Modern Art, New York. "Sixteen Americans" 
(group exhibition, including [asper Johns, Robert Rauschen- 
berg, and Frank Stella). December 16, 1959-February 14, 
1960. Catalogue, with statements by the artists. 

"Art: The Higher Criticism." Time, 75 (January 11, 1960), 
p. 59. 

Genauer, Emily. "Art." New York Herald Tribune, December 
20, 1959, section 4, p. 8. 

. "16- Artist Show Is on Today at Museum of Modern 

Art." New York Herald Tribune, December 16, 1959, p. 26. 

Preston, Stuart. "Art: 'Sixteen Americans.' " The New York 
Times, December 16, 1959, p. 50. 

. "The Shape of Things to Come?" The New York 

Times, December 20, 1959, section 2, p. 11. 

Rubin, William. "Younger American Painters." Art Interna- 
tiona], 4, no. 1 (1960), pp. 24-31. 

Stella, Frank. "An Artist Writes to Correct and Explain." 
New York Herald Tribune, December 27, 1959, section 4, 

p. 7. 

Reuben Gallery, New York. "Below Zero" (group exhibition: 
Yvonne Anderson, George Brecht, Jim Dine, Martha Edelheit, 
Jean Follett, Bruce Gilchrist, Red Grooms, Al Hansen, Ray 
Johnson, Allan Kaprow, Renee Miller, Claes Oldenburg, 
Robert Rauschenberg, George Segal, Richard Stankiewicz, 
James Waring, Robert Whitman). December 18, 1959- 
January 5, 1960. 


Reuben Gallery, New York. "Red Grooms" (paintings, col- 
lages, and constructions for stage sets). January 9-28, 1960. 

S|eelye|, A|nne]. "Reviews and Previews: New Names This 
Month— Red Grooms." Art News, 58 (February 1960), p. 18. 

V[entura|, Ajnita). "In the Galleries: Red Grooms." Arts, 34 
(February 1960), p. 67. 

Reuben Gallery, New York. "Paintings" (group exhibition: 
Herb Brown, Jim Dine, Red Grooms, Al Jensen, Lester 
Johnson, Allan Kaprow, Nicholas Krushemck, Claes Olden- 
burg, Patricia Passloff, Renee Rubin, Lucas Samaras, George 
Segal, Robert Whitman). January 29-February 18, 1960. 

Judson Gallery, Judson Memorial Church, New York. "Ray- 
Gun" (two-artist exhibition: Jim Dine, The House-, Claes 
Oldenburg, The Street). January 30-March 17, 1960. 

Kiplinger, Suzanne. "Art: Ray-Gun." The Village Voice, 
February 17, 1960, p. 11. 

Leo Castelli Gallery, New York. "Jasper Johns" (paintings with 
stenciled words, collage elements). February 15-March 5, 

J|udd|, D[onaId). "In the Galleries: Jasper Johns." Arts, 34 
(March 1960), pp. 57-58. 

S|andler|, I|rving| H. "Reviews and Previews: Jasper Johns." 
Art News, 58 (February 1960), p. 15. 

Leo Castelli Gallery, New York. "Robert Rauschenberg" (com- 
bine-paintings). March 29-April 16, 1960. 

Ashton, Dore. "Art: Derivation of Dada." The New York 
Times, March 30, 1960, p. 42. 

Genauer, Emily. "Art: Two Shows Contrasted — Dada's the 
Disease, Geometry a Cure?" New York Herald Tribune, 
April 3, 1960, section 4, p. 7. 

Sjandler], I|rving| H. "Reviews and Previews: Robert 
Rauschenberg." Art News, 59 (April 1960), p. 14. 

T|illim|, S|idney|. "In the Galleries: Robert Rauschenberg." 
Arts, 34 (May 1960), pp. 58-59. 

Reuben Gallery, New York. "Jim Dine" (paintings, drawings, 
and sculptures). April 1-14, 1960. 

S|andler|, I|rving) H. "Reviews and Previews: New Names 
This Month— Jim Dine." Art News, 59 (April 1960), p. 17. 

V|entura|, A|nita|. "In the Galleries: James Dine." Arts, 34 
(April 1960), p. 75. 

Reuben Gallery, New York. "Claes Oldenburg: The Street" 
(drawings, sculptures, and constructions; revised version of 
installation at Judson Gallery, Judson Memorial Church, Jan- 
uary-March 1960). May 6-19, 1960. 

S[andler], Ifrving] H. "Reviews and Previews: Claes Olden- 
burg." Art News, 59 (Summer 1960), p. 16. 

Tjillim], S[idney]. "In the Galleries: Claes Oldenburg." Arts, 
34 (June 1960), p. 53. 

Judson Gallery, Judson Memorial Church, New York. "Tom 
Wesselmann and Marc Ratliff" (two-artist exhibition, paint- 
ings and collages). May 6-27, 1960. 

C[rehan], H|ubert]. "Reviews and Previews: New Names 
This Month— Wesselmann and Ratliff." Art News, 59 (May 
1960), p. 58. 

D|e| Mjott], Hlelen). "In the Galleries: Marc Ratliff, Tom 
Wesselmann." Arts, 34 (May 1960), p. 69. 

Martha Jackson Gallery, New York. "New Media — New 
Forms: In Painting and Sculpture" (group exhibition: 71 art- 
ists, including George Brecht, Jim Dine, Dan Flavin, Red 
Grooms, Jasper Johns, Allan Kaprow, Claes Oldenburg, Robert 
Rauschenberg, Robert Whitman). June 6-24, 1960. Catalogue 
entitled New Forms — New Media I, with essays by Lawrence 
Alloway and Allan Kaprow, photographs by Rudolph 

"Art: Here Today . . ." Time, 75 (June 20, 1960), p. 62. 

B|urrows|, C|lyde]. "New Media, Forms." New York Herald 
Tribune, June 12, 1960, section 4, p. 7. 

Canaday, John. "Art: A Wild, but Curious, End-of-Season 
Treat." The New York Times, June 7, 1960, section 5, p. 32. 

Hess, Thomas B. "Mixed Mediums for a Soft Revolution." 
Art News, 59 (Summer 1960), pp. 45, 62. 

Morse, John D. "The Artist in America: He Returns to 
Dada." Art in America, 48, no. 3 (1960), pp. 76-78. 

Sandler, Irving H. "Ash Can Revisited, a New York Letter." 
Art International, 4 (October 1960), pp. 28-30. 

chronology 139 

Leo Castelli Gallery, New York. "Frank Stella" (paintings 
from the Aluminum series). September 27-October 15, 1960. 

D[el M[ott], H[elen|. "In the Galleries; Frank Stella." Arts, 
35 (October 1960), p. 64. 

P|etersen|, V[alerie]. "Reviews and Previews; Frank Stella." 
Art News, 59 (November 1960), p. 17. 

Preston, Stuart. "Housing in Art's Many Mansions." The 
New York Times, October 2, 1960, section 2, p. 21. 

Sandler, Irving H. "New York Letter." Art International, 4 
(December 1960), p. 25. 

Martha Jackson Gallery and David Anderson Gallery, New 
York. "New Media — New Forms; In Painting and Sculpture, 
Version II" (group exhibition; 72 artists, including George 
Brecht, Jim Dine, Dan Flavin, Jasper Johns, Allan Kaprow, 
Claes Oldenburg, Robert Rauschenberg, Lucas Samaras, 
Robert Whitman). September 28-October 22, 1960. 

Canaday, John. "The Blind Artist — In a Crucial Time He 
Plays at Games." The New York Times, October 2, 1960, 
section 2, p. 21. 

Kramer, Hilton. "Month in Review." Arts, 35 (November 
1960), pp. 50-51. 

Green Gallery, New York. "George Segal" (paintings and 
sculptures). November 15-December 10, 1960. 

B[eck|, J|ames] H. "Reviews and Previews; George Segal." 
Art News, 59 (November 1960), p. 14. 

T[illim], S[idneyl. "In the Galleries; George Segal." Arts, 35 
(December 1960), p. 54. 

Judson Gallery, Judson Memorial Church, New York. "Allan 
Kaprow; An Apple Shrine" (environment). November 
30-December 24, 1960. 

Pfetersen], V|alerie|. "Reviews and Previews; Allan Kaprow." 
Art News, 59 (January 1961), p. 12. 

Tucker, Theodore. "Art; Kaprow's Apple Shrine.' " The Vil- 
lage Voice, January 12, 1961, p. 7. 

Judson Gallery, Judson Memorial Church, New York. "Jim 
Dine; Rainbow Thoughts" (environment). January 1961. 

Jlohnston], J(ill|. "Reviews and Previews: Jim Dine." Art 
News, 59 (February 1961), p. 15. 


Leo Castelli Gallery, New York. "Jasper Johns; Drawings and 
Sculpture." January 31-February 25, 1961. 

Judson Gallery, Judson Memorial Church, New York, "dn 
flavin; constructions and watercolors." May 8-June 5, 1961. 

J[ohnston|, J|ill|. "Reviews and Previews; New Names This 
Month— Dan Flavin." Art News, 60 (May 1961), pp. 20-21. 

Martha Jackson Gallery and David Anderson Gallery, New 
York. "Environments, Situations, Spaces" (group exhibition; 
George Brecht, Iced Dice-, Jim Dine, Spring Cabuiet; Walter 
Gaudnek, Unlimited Dimensions-, Allan Kaprow, Yard; Claes 
Oldenburg, The Store-, Robert Whitman, Untitled). May 
25-June 23, 1961. Catalogue, with statements by the artists. 

"Art; Jumping on Tires." Newsweek, 57 (June 12, 1961), p. 92. 

K|roll|, J|ack|. "Reviews and Previews; Situations and En- 
vironments." Art News, 60 (September 1961), p. 16. 

O'Doherty, Brian. "Art; 3 Displays Run Gamut of Styles." 
The New York Times, June 6, 1961, p. 43. 

The Museum of Modern Art, New York. "The Art of As- 
semblage" (group exhibition; 142 artists, including George 
Brecht, Jasper Johns, Robert Rauschenberg, and Lucas Sa- 
maras). October 2-November 12, 1961. Catalogue, with essay 
by William C. Seitz. Unpublished transcript, in The Museum 
of Modern Art Library files, of a symposium presented in 
conjunction with the exhibition, October 19; William C. 
Seitz, moderator, Roger Shattuck, Charles R. Huelsenbeck, 
Marcel Duchamp, Robert Rauschenberg, and Lawrence 
Alloway, participants. 

Ashton, Dore. "But, But, But . . . An Assemblage of Way- 
ward Opinion on the Art of Assemblage." Arts and Archi- 
tecture, 79 (January 1962), pp. 4-5, 32-33. 

Canaday, John. "Art Out of Anything." The New York Times 
Magazine, October 1, 1961, p. 52. 

. "Art; Spectacular Show — New 'Assemblage' Display 

at Modern Museum Is Called a 'Dazzler.' " The New York 
Times, October 4, 1961, p. 42. 

. "A Mixed-Up Show — 'Art of Assemblage' Leaves a 

Little Something to Be Desired." The New York Times, 
October 8, 1961, section 2, p. 19. 

Coplans, John. "Review; San Francisco — The Art of As- 
semblage." Artforum, 1 (June 1962), p. 35. 

Hess, Thomas B. "Collage as an Historical Method." Art 
News, 60 (November 1961), pp. 30-32, 69-71. 

Kiplinger, Suzanne. "Art; Assemblage." The Village Voice, 
October 26, 1961, p. 8. 

Raynor, Vivien. "The Current Scene; The Art of As- 
semblage." Arts Magazine, 36 (November 1961), pp. 18-19. 

Seitz, William C. "Assemblage; Problems and Issues." Art 
International, 6 (February 1962), pp. 26-34. 

. "Problems of 'New Directions' Exhibitions." 

Artforum, 2 (September 1963), pp. 23-25. 

Leo Castelli Gallery, New York. "Robert Rauschenberg" (com- 
bine-paintings). November 7-December 5, 1961. 

J|udd], D|onald|. "New York Exhibitions; In the Galleries — 
Robert Rauschenberg." Arts Magazine, 36 (January 1962), 
pp. 39-40. 

K|roll], J|ack|. "Reviews and Previews; Robert Rauschen- 
berg." Art News, 60 (December 1961), p. 12. 

Ray Gun Mfg. Co., 107 East Second Street, New York, in 
cooperation with Green Gallery, New York. "Claes Olden- 
burg; The Store" (expanded version of the installation of 
reliefs at Martha Jackson Gallery, May 1961). December 1, 
1961-January 1962. 

J[ohnston|, J|ill|. "Exhibitions for 1961-62; Claes Olden- 
burg." Art News, 60 (January 1962), pp. 46-47, 60. 

Tillim, Sidney. "New York Exhibitions; Month in Review." 
Arts Magazine, 36 (February 1962), pp. 34-37. 

Green Gallery, New York. "Lucas Samaras; Pastels — Plas- 
ters — Boxes — Etcetera." December 5-23, 1961. 

140 Chronology 

J[ohnston], J|ill|. "Reviews and Previews: Lucas Samaras." 
Art News, 60 (December 1961), p. 14. 

J|udd|, D(onald]. "In the Galleries: Lucas Samaras." Arts 
Magazine, 36 (February 1962), p. 44. 

Tanager Gallery, New York. "Tom Wesselmann: Great Amer- 
ican Nude" (collages). December 8-30, 1961. 

E|dgar], N[ataliel. "Reviews and Previews: Tom Wessel- 
mann." Art News, 60 (December 1961), p. 56. 

R[aynor|, V|ivien]. "New York Exhibitions: In the Gal- 
leries — Tom Wesselmann." Arts Magazine, 36 (February 
1962), p. 47. 


Martha lackson Gallery with David Anderson Gallery, 
New York, "lim Dine: New Works" (paintings of articles of 
clothing, with three-dimensional collage elements). January 
9-February 3, 1962. Catalogue, with essay by Lawrence 

"Art: The Smiling Workman." Time, 79 (February 2, 1962), 
p. 44. 

Ashton, Dore. "New York Commentary." The Studio, 163 
(April 1962), p. 157. 

Jlohnston], Jlill). "Reviews and Previews: James Dine." Art 
News, 60 (January 1962), pp. 12-13. 

Kozloff, Max. "Art." The Nation, 194 (January 27, 1962), 
p. 88. 

Tjillim], S[idney|. "New York Exhibitions: In the Gal- 
leries — lim Dine." Arts Magazine, 36 (March 1962), 
pp. 46-47. 

Green Gallery, New York. "James Rosenquist" (paintings). 
January 30-February 17, 1962. 

Sandler, Irving H. "In the Art Galleries." New York Post, 
February 18, 1962, section 2, p. 12. 

S(wenson], G|ene| R. "Reviews and Previews: New Names 
This Month — James Rosenquist." Art News, 60 (February 
1962), p. 20. 

T[illim], Sjidney]. "New York Exhibitions: In the Gal- 
leries — James Rosenquist." Arts Magazine, 36 (March 1962), 
pp. 46-47. 

Leo Castelli Gallery, New York. "Roy Lichtenstein" (paint- 
ings). February 10-March 3, 1962. 

E|dgar], N|atalie]. "Reviews and Previews: Roy Lichten- 
stein." Arf News, 61 (March 1962), p. 14. 

J[udd], D[onald|. "New York Exhibitions: In the Galleries — 
Roy Lichtenstein." Arts Magazine, 36 (April 1962), 
pp. 52-53. 

Dallas Museum for Contemporary Arts. "1961" (group exhi- 
bition: 36 artists, including Jim Dine, Jasper Johns, Roy 
Lichtenstein, Claes Oldenburg, Robert Rauschenberg, and 
lames Rosenquist; Oldenburg presented a partial re-creation 
of The Store). April 3~May 13, 1962. Catalogue, with essay by 
Douglas MacAgy. 

Leo Castelli Gallery, New York. "Frank Stella" (paintings 
from the Copper series). April 28-May 19, 1962. 

C|ampbell|, L|awrence|. "Reviews and Previews: Frank 
Stella." Art News, 61 (Summer 1962), p. 17. 

J|udd), D|onald|. "New York Exhibits: In the Galleries — 
Frank Stella." Arts Magazine, 36 (September 1962), p. 51. 

Green Gallery, New York. "George Segal" (paintings and life- 
size plaster figures in environmental settings). May 8-lune 2, 

Jjohnston], J[ill|. "Reviews and Previews: George Segal." Art 
News, 61 (May 1962), p. 16. 

I|udd|, D[onald|. "New York Reports: In the Galleries — 
George Segal." Arts Magazine, 36 (September 1962), p. 55. 

Ferus Gallery, Los Angeles. "Andy Warhol" (paintings of 
Campbell's soup cans). July 9-August 4, 1962. 

Hlopkins], H|enry| T. "Reviews: Los Angeles — Andy 
Warhol." Artforum, 1 (September 1962), p. 15. 

Smolin Gallery, New York. "Allan Kaprow: Words" (environ- 
ment). September 11-12, 1962. 

C|ampbell|, L[awrence|. "Reviews and Previews: Allan 
Kaprow." Art News, 61 (October 1962), pp. 13-14. 

M|cDarrah|, F|red|. "Art." The Village Voice, September 6, 
1962, p. 9. 

O'Doherty, Brian. "Art: 'Environment: Words' Exploits Law 
of Chance." The New York Times, September 15, 1962, 
p. 22. 

Green Gallery, New York. "Claes Oldenburg" (large-scale 
"soft" sculptures). September 18-October 20, 1962. 

Ashton, Dore. "New York Report." Das Kunstwerk, 16 
(November-December 1962), pp. 69-72. 

. "New York Letter." Das Kunstwerk, 16 (January 

1963), p. 32. 

C|ampbell], L[awrence]. "Reviews and Previews: Claes 
Oldenburg." Art News, 61 (October 1962), pp. 13-14. 

Fried, Michael. "New York Letter." Art International, 6 
(October 1962), pp. 74-76. 

I(ohnston|, J[ill]. "Reviews and Previews: Claes Oldenburg." 
Art News, 61 (November 1962), p. 13. 

Preston, Stuart. "Current and Forthcoming Exhibitions: 
New York." Burlington Magazine, 104 (November 1962), 
p. 508. 

Rudikoff, Sonya. "New York Letter." Art International, 6 
(November 1962), p. 62. 

Tillim, Sidney. "New York Exhibitions: Month in Review — 
Claes Oldenburg." Arts Magazine, 37 (November 1962), 
pp. 36-38. 

Leo Castelli Gallery, New York. "John Chamberlain/Frank 
Stella" (two-artist exhibition: sculptures/paintings). October 
16-November 7, 1962. 

Ashton, Dore. "New York Report." Das Kunstwerk, 16 
(November-December 1962), pp. 69-72. 

Fried, Michael. "New York Letter." Art International, 6 
(November 1962), p. 54. 

Rjaynor], Vjivien]. "New York Exhibitions: In the Gal- 
leries — Frank Stella, John Chamberlain." Arts Magazine, 
3,7 (December 1962), pp. 46-47. 

Chronology 141 

S(andler|, I|rving| H. "Reviews and Previews: lohn Cham- 
berlain and Frank Stella." Art News, 61 (December 1962), 
p. 54. 

Sidney fanis Gallery, New York. "The New Realists" (group 
exhibition: 29 artists, including lim Dine, Roy Lichtenstem, 
Claes Oldenburg, James Rosenquist, George Segal, Andy War- 
hol, and Tom Wesselmann). October 31-December 1, 1962. 
Catalogue, with essays by John Ashbery and Pierre Restany. 

Ashton, Dore. "New York Report." Das Kunstwerk, 16 
(November-December 1962), pp. 69-72. 

H|ess|, T[homas] B. "Reviews and Previews: 'New Real- 
ists.' " Art News, 61 (December 1962), pp. 12-13. 

Johnston, Jill. "The Artist in a Coca-Cola World." The 
Village Voice, January 31, 1963, pp. 7, 24. 

Kramer, Hilton. "Art." The Nation, 195 (November 17, 
1962), pp. 334-35. 

O'Doherty, Brian. "Art: Avant-Garde Revolt — 'New Realists' 
Mock U.S. Mass Culture in Exhibition at Sidney Jams 
Gallery." The New York Times, October 31, 1962, p. 41. 

. " 'Pop' Goes the New Art." The New York Times, 

November 4, 1962, section 2, p. 23. 

Raol, Rosine. "New York Letter: Bang or Whimper?" 
Apollo, 76 (December 1962), p. 819. 

Rosenberg, Harold. "The Art Galleries: The Game of Illu- 
sion." The New Yorker, 38 (November 24, 1962), pp. 161-67. 

Rudikoff, Sonya. "New Realists in New York." Art Interna- 
tional, 7 (January 1963), pp. 38-41. 

Sandler, Irving. H. "In the Art Galleries." New York Post, 
November 18, 1962, section 2, p. 12. 

. "New York Letter." Quadrum, 14 (1963), pp. 115-24. 

T|illim], S[idney]. "New York Exhibitions: In the Gal- 
leries—The New Realists." Arts Magazine, 37 (December 
1962), pp. 43-44. 

Stable Gallery, New York. "Andy Warhol" (silkscreen paint- 
ings of movie stars and commercial products). November 
6-24, 1962. Catalogue, with essay by Suzy Stanton. Re- 
printed as "Warhol at Bennington." Art fournal, 22 (Summer 
1963), pp. 237-39. 

Ashton, Dore. "New York Report." Das Kunstwerk, 16 
(November-December 1962), pp. 69-72. 

Fried, Michael. "New York Letter." Art International, 6 
(December 1962), p. 57. 

J[uddl, Djonaldj. "New York Exhibitions: In the Galleries — 
Andy Warhol." Arts Magazine, 37 (January 1963), p. 49. 

S|wenson|, G|ene] R. "Reviews and Previews: Andy Warhol." 
Art News, 61 (November 1962), p. 15. 

Green Gallery, New York. "Wesselmann: Collages/Great 
American Nude & Still Life." November 13-December 1, 

J(ohnston|, J|ill|. "Reviews and Previews: Tom Wesselmann." 
Art News, 61 (November 1962), p. 15. 

O'Doherty, Brian. "Art: 'Pop' Show by Tom Wesselmann Is 
Revisited." The New York Times, November 28, 1962, p. 36. 

R[aynor], V[ivien]. "In the Galleries: Tom Wesselmann." 
Arts Magazine, 37 (January 1963), p. 45. 

Dwan Gallery, Los Angeles. "My Country 'Tis of Thee" 
(group exhibition: 13 artists, including Jasper Johns, Roy 
Lichtenstein, Claes Oldenburg, Robert Rauschenberg, James 
Rosenquist, Andy Warhol, and Tom Wesselmann). November 
18-December 15, 1962. Catalogue, with essay by Gerald 

Langsner, Jules. "Los Angeles Letter." Art International, 7 
(January 1963), pp. 81-83. 

W[holden], R(osalind] G. "Reviews: My Country 'Tis of 
Thee." Artforum, 1 (February 1963), p. 20. 


9 Great Jones Street, New York. "An Interior of Sculpture: 
New Work by Robert Whitman" and "Walter de Maria" (boxes 
and plywood objects). January 5-February 2, 1963. 

J[ohnston], J[ill]. "Reviews and Previews: Robert Whitman." 
Art News, 61 (February 1963), pp. 12-13. 

. "Reviews and Previews: New Names This Month — 

Walter De Maria." Art News, 61 (February 1963), p. 19. 

Green Gallery, New York. "New Work Part I" (group exhibi- 
tion: Milet Andrejevic, Dan Flavin, Donald Judd, Yayoi 
Kusama, Robert Morris, Larry Poons, Lucas Samaras, George 
Segal). January 8-February 2, 1963. 

Fried, Michael. "New York Letter." Art International, 7 
(February 1963), p. 64. 

Flavin, Dan. "Editor's Letters." Art News, 62 (April 1963), 
p. 6. 

J[ohnston], Jlillj. "Reviews and Previews: New Work." Art 
News, 62 (March 1963), p. 50. 

Tillim, Sidney. "New York Exhibitions: Month in Review." 
Arts Magazine, 37 (March 1963), pp. 61-62. 

Leo Castelli Gallery, New York. "Jasper Johns" (paintings with 
words and three-dimensional collage elements). January 
12-February 7, 1963. 

S[wenson], G|ene| R. "Reviews and Previews: Jasper Johns." 
Art News, 61 (February 1963), pp. 11-12. 

Tillim, Sidney. "New York Exhibitions: Month in Review." 
Arts Magazine, 37 (March 1963), p. 62. 

Sidney Janis Gallery, New York. "Jim Dine" (paintings with 
three-dimensional bathroom appurtenances as collage ele- 
ments). February 4-March 2, 1963. Catalogue, with essay by 
Oyvind Fahlstrom. 

Ashton, Dore. "Correspondents: Letter from New York." 
Canadian Art, 20 (May 1963), p. 189. 

. "Modern Symbolism and Strained 'Pop': New York 

Commentary — Sidney Janis." Studio International, 165 
(May 1963), p. 198. 

Fried, Michael. "New York Letter." Art International, 7 
(March 1963), p. 51. 

J|ohnston|, Jlill]. "Reviews and Previews: Jim Dine." Art 
News, 62 (March 1963), p. 14. 

O'Doherty, Brian. "Showing Jim Dine." The New York 
Times, February 11, 1963, p. 5. 

Preston, Stuart. "Current and Forthcoming Exhibitions: 
New York." Burlington Magazine, 105 (March 1963), p. 140. 

142 Chronology 

Tillim, Sidney. "New York Exhibitions: Month in Review." 
Arts Magazine, .^7 (March 1963), pp. 61-62. 

Ferus Gallery, Los Angeles. "Frank Stella" (paintings from 
Multi-colored Concentric Squares and Mitered Mazes series). 
February 18-March 31, 1963. 

F[actor|, D|onald|. "Reviews; Los Angeles — Frank Stella." 
Artforum, 1 (May 1963), p. 44. 

Langsner, Jjules]. "Los Angeles Letter." Art International, 7 
(March 1963), pp. 75-76. 

The Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum, New York. "Six 
Painters and the Object" (group exhibition: Jim Dine, Jasper 
Johns, Roy Lichtenstein, Robert Rauschenberg, James Rosen- 
quist, Andy Warhol). March 14-June 2, 1963. Catalogue, with 
essay by Lawrence Alloway. 

"Art: Pop Pop." Time, 82 (August 30, 1963), p. 40. 

Flactor), D|on|. "Six Painters and the Object and Six More, 
L.A. County Museum of Art." Artforum, 1 (September 
1963), pp. 13-14. 

Horowitz, Leonard. "Art: 6 Characters in Search of an Art 
Movement." The Village Voice, April 4, 1963, p. 11. 

J[udd|, D[onald|. "New York Exhibitions: In the Galleries — 
Six Painters and the Object." Arts Magazine, 37 (May-June 
1963), pp. 108-9. 

Preston, Stuart. "On Display: All-Out Series of Pop Art — 
'Six Painters and the Object' Exhibited at Guggenheim." 
The New York Times, March 21, 1963, p. 8. 

Rose, Barbara. "Pop Art at the Guggenheim." Art Interna- 
tional, 7 (May 1963), pp. 20-22. 

The Jewish Museum, New York. "Robert Rauschenberg" 
(retrospective). March 31-May 12, 1963. Catalogue, with es- 
say by Alan R. Solomon. 

J[udd|, D[onald|. "New York Exhibitions: Robert Rauschen- 
berg." Arts Magazme, 37 (May-June 1963), pp. 103-4. 

O'Doherty, Brian. "Robert Rauschenberg." The New York 
Times, April 28, 1963, section 2, p. 13. 

Ferus Gallery, Los Angeles. "Roy Lichtenstein" (paintings). 
April 1-27, 1963. 

M[cClellan], Dfoug]. "Reviews: Los Angeles — Roy 
Lichtenstein." Artforum, 2 (July 1963), pp. 44-46. 

Green Gallery, New York. "James Rosenquist" (paintings). 
April 15-May 25, 1963. 

Washington Gallery of Modern Art, Washington, D.C. "The 
Popular Image" (group exhibition: George Brecht, Jim Dine, 
Jasper Johns, Roy Lichtenstein, Claes Oldenburg, Robert 
Rauschenberg, James Rosenquist, Andy Warhol, Robert Watts, 
John Wesley, Tom Wesselmann). April 18-June 2, 1963. Cata- 
logue, with essay by Alan R. Solomon, accompanied by a 33 
rpm phonograph record of interviews with the artists, edited 
by Billy Kliiver. Solomon's essay reprinted as "The New Art." 
Art International, 7 (September 1963), pp. 37-43. 

"Show Business: Happenings — Pop Culture." Time, 81 
(May 3, 1963), p. 73. 

Wesselmann, Tom. "Editor's Letters." Art News, 62 
(Summer 1963), p. 6. 

80 Jefferson Street, New York. "George Brecht" (object- 
Events). April 1963. 

J|ohnston|, J|ill|. "Reviews and Previews: George Brecht." 
Art News, 62 (May 1963), p. 63. 

Oakland Art Museum and the California College of Arts & 
Crafts. "Pop Art USA" (group exhibition: 47 artists, including 
George Brecht, Jim Dine, Jasper Johns, Roy Lichtenstein, 
Claes Oldenburg, Robert Rauschenberg, James Rosenquist, 
Andy Warhol, Tom Wesselmann). September 7-29, 1963. Cat- 
alogue, with essay by John Coplans. Reprinted as "Pop Art, 
U.S.A " Artforum, 2, no. 4 (1963), pp. 27-30. 

Coplans, John. "Pop Art — U.S.A." Art m America, 51 
(October 1963), pp. 26-27. 

Green Gallery, New York. "Group Show" (group exhibition: 
Milet Andrejevic, George Brecht, Leslie Kerr, Robert Morris, 
Lucas Samaras, George Segal, Sidney Tillim, Tom Wessel- 
mann, H. C. Westermann). Opened September 24, 1963. 

Fried, Michael. "New York Letter." Art International, 7 
(December 1963), p. 68. 

Leo Castelli Gallery, New York. "Roy Lichtenstein" (paint- 
ings). September 28-October 24, 1963. 

C[ampbell|, L|awrence|. "Reviews and Previews: Roy 
Lichtenstein." Art News, 62 (November 1963), pp. 12-13. 

Fried, Michael. "New York Letter." Art International, 7 
(December 1963), p. 66. 

J|udd|, D|onald|. "New York Exhibitions: In the Galleries — 
Roy Lichtenstein." Arts Magazine, 38 (November 1963), 
pp. 32-33. 

O'Doherty, Brian. "Lichtenstein: Doubtful But Definite Tri- 
umph of the Banal." The New York Times, October 27, 
1963, section 2, p. 21. 

Ferus Gallery, Los Angeles. "Andy Warhol" (paintings of Elvis 
Presley). September 30-October 1963. 

Dwan Gallery, Los Angeles. "Oldenburg" (large-scale "soft" 
sculptures of food and clothing). October 1-26, 1963. 

Nordland, Gerald. "Marcel Duchamp and Common Object 
Art." Art International, 8 (February 1964), pp. 30-32. 

Green Gallery, New York. "Robert Morris" (boxes and large- 
scale wooden geometric constructions). October 15-Novem- 
ber 2, 1963. 

Jlohnston), J|ill|. "Reviews and Previews: New Names This 
Month — Robert Morris." Art News, 62 (October 1963), pp. 

O'Doherty, Brian. "Art: Connoisseurs Face Busy Season — 
Robert Morris." The New York Times, October 19, 1963, 

p. 22. 

Rose, Barbara. "New York Letter." Art International, 7 
(December 1963), pp. 61-64. 

T|illim], S[idney]. "In the Galleries: New York Exhibi- 
tions — Robert Morris." Arts Magazine, 38 (December 1963), 
pp. 61-62. 

Tibor de Nagy Gallery, New York. "Red Grooms" (wood and 
papier-mache figures, paintings, and painted relief construc- 
tions). October 15-November 2, 1963. 

Hieronymus, Clara. "A Bright Occasion." The Nashville 
Tennessean, November 17, 1963, section C, pp. 1-2. 

Preston, Stuart. "Art: Contemporary Galaxy." The New York 
Times, October 20, 1963, p. 16. 


Rose, Barbara. "New York Letter." Art International, 7 
(December 1963), p. 63. 

Sandler, Irving H. "In the Art Galleries." New York Post, 
October 27, 1963, section 2, p. 14. 

S(wenson|, G[ene| R. "Reviews and Previews: New Names 
This Month— Red Grooms." Art News, 62 (October 1963), 
p. 14. 

Tjillim], S(idney]. "New York Exhibitions: In the Gal- 
leries — Red Grooms." Arts Magazine, 38 (December 1963), 
pp. 63-64. 

Leo Castelli Gallery, New York. "Robert Rauschenberg" 
(black-and-white silkscreen paintings). October 26-November 
21, 1963. 

Kozloff, Max. "Art." The Nation, 197 (December 7, 1963), 
pp. 402-3. 

The Buffalo Fine Arts Academy, Albright-Knox Art Gallery, 
Buffalo. "Mixed Media and Pop Art" (group exhibition: 66 
artists, including George Brecht, Jim Dine, Jasper Johns, Roy 
Lichtenstein, Robert Morris, Robert Rauschenberg, James 
Rosenquist, Lucas Samaras, George Segal, Andy Warhol, Tom 
Wesselmann). November 19-December 15, 1963. Catalogue. 

Green Gallery, New York. "Don Judd" (painted wooden wall 
reliefs and three-dimensional geometric constructions). De- 
cember 17, 1963-January II, 1964. 

Fried, Michael. "New York Letter." Art International, 8 
(February 1964), p. 26. 

Kramer, Hilton. "Art Centers: New York — The Season Sur- 
veyed." Art in America, 52 (June 1964), p. 112. 

Lippard, Ljucy] R. "New York: Don Judd." Artforum, 2 
(March 1964), pp. 18-19. 

O'Doherty, Brian. "Recent Openings." The New York Times, 
December 21, 1963, p. 20. 

S|wenson|, G[ene| R. "Reviews and Previews: New Names 
This Month — Donald Judd." Art News, 62 (February 1964), 
p. 20. 

Tillim, Sidney. "New York Exhibitions: Month in Review — 
The New Avant-Garde." Arts Magazine, 38 (February 1964), 
pp. 20-21. 


Sidney Janis Gallery, New York. "Four Environments by Four 
New Realists" (group exhibition: lim Dine, Claes Oldenburg, 
James Rosenquist, George Segal). January 3-February 1, 1964. 

Ashton, Djore]. "Four Environments: Exhibition at Janis 
Gallery." /I r£s and Architecture, 81 (February 1964), p. 9. 

Genauer, Emily. "Art: Heard Any Good Paintings Lately?" 
New York Herald Tribune, January 26, 1964, p. 35. 

Oeri, Georgine. "The Object of Art." Quadrum, 16 (1964), 
pp. 4-6. 

Rose, Barbara. "New York Letter." Art International, 8 
(April 1964), p. 53. 

Slwenson], Gjene] R. "Reviews and Previews: Four Environ- 
ments." Art News, 62 (February 1964), p. 8. 

Leo Castelli Gallery, New York. "Frank Stella" (paintings 
from the Purple series). January 4-February 6, 1964. 

Chronology 143 

Kozloff, Max. "New York Letter." Art International, 8 
(April 1964), p. 64. 

Lippard, L|ucyl R. "New York: Frank Stella." Artforum, 2 
(March 1964), pp. 18-19. 

O'Doherty, Brian. "Frank Stella and a Crisis of Nothing- 
ness." The New York Times, January 19, 1964, section 2, 
p. 21. 

S[wenson], G|ene] R. "Reviews and Previews: Frank Stella." 
Art News, 62 (February 1964), p. 11. 

Tillim, Sidney. "New York Exhibitions: Month in Review — 
The New Avant-Garde." Arts Magazine, 38 (February 1964), 
pp. 20-21. 

Wadsworth Atheneum, Hartford, Connecticut. "Black, White 
and Gray" (group exhibition: 22 artists, including George 
Brecht, Jim Dine, Dan Flavin, Jasper Johns, Roy Lichtenstein, 
Robert Morris, Robert Rauschenberg, Frank Stella, Andy War- 
hol). January 9-February 9, 1964. 

Judd, Donald. "Nationwide Reports: Hartford — Black, 
White and Gray." Arts Magazine, 38 (March 1964), 
pp. 36-38. 

Wagstaff, Samuel J. "Paintings to Think About." Art News, 
62 (January 1964), pp. 38, 62. 

Green Gallery, New York. "James Rosenquist" (paintings and 
three-dimensional constructions). January 15-February 8, 

Kozloff, Max. "New York Letter: Rosenquist." Art Interna- 
tional, 8 (April 1964), p. 62. 

Preston, Stuart. "Art: Pop Works Appear Everywhere." The 
New York Times, January 18, 1964, p. 20. 

Slwenson], G|ene| R. "Reviews and Previews: James Rosen- 
quist." Art News, 62 (February 1964), p. 8. 

T|illim], S(idney]. "New York Exhibitions: In the Galleries." 
Arts Magazine, 38 (March 1964), p. 63. 

Ebling Brewery, Bronx, New York. "Allan Kaprow: Eat" (en- 
vironment, sponsored by Smolin Gallery). January 18, 19, 25, 
26, 1964. 

Green Gallery, New York. "Tom Wesselmann" (painting-col- 
lages. Great American Nude series). February U-March 7, 

Fried, Michael. "New York Letter." Art International, 8 
(April 1964), p. 60. 

Hjarrison], J|ane]. "New York Exhibitions: In the Gal- 
leries — Tom Wesselmann." Arts Magazine, 38 (April 1964), 
pp. 32-33. 

Horowitz, Leonard. "Art." The Village Voice, February 20, 

Jlohnston], Jlill]. "Reviews and Previews: Tom Wesselmann." 
Art News, 63 (April 1964), p. 13. 

The Jewish Museum, New York. "Jasper Johns" (retrospec- 
tive). February 16-April 12, 1964. Catalogue, with essays by 
Alan R. Solomon and John Cage. 

"Art: The Younger." Newsweek, 63 (February 24, 1964), 
pp. 82-83. 

Ashton, Dore. "New York Commentary: Acceleration in 
Discovery and Consumption." Studio International, 167 
(May 1964), pp. 212-13. 

144 Chronology 

Kozloff, Max. "Johns and Duchamp." Art International, 8 
(March 1964), pp. 42-45. 

Porter, Fairfield. "The Education of Jasper Johns." Art News, 
62 (February 1964), pp. 44-45, 61-62. 

Preston, Stuart. "Art: Jasper Johns Retrospective Show." The 
New York Times, February 15, 1964, p. 20. 

P|reston|, S[tuartl. "Pop Hits the Big Time." The New York 
Times, February 16, 1964, section 2, p. 15. 

Tillim, Sidney. "New York Exhibitions: Month in Review — 
Ten Years of Jasper Johns." Arts Magazine, 38 (April 1964), 
pp. 22-26. 

Kaymar Gallery, New York. "Dan Flavin: some light" (con- 
structions with electric lights). March 5-29, 1964. 

J[udd], D|onald|. "New York Exhibitions: In the Galleries — 
Dan Flavin." Arts Magazine, 38 (April 1964), p. 31. 

Llevin], K[im]. "Reviews and Previews: New Names This 
Month — Dan Flavin." Art News, 63 (March 1964), p. 14. 

Lippard, L(ucy] R. "New York: Dan Flavin." Artforum, 1 
(May 1964), p. 54. 

Rose, Barbara. "New York Letter." Art International, 8 
(Summer 1964), p. 80. 

Green Gallery, New York. "George Segal" (life-size plaster 
figures in three-dimensional environments). March 11-April 
4, 1964. 

S[wenson], Glene] R. "Reviews and Previews: George Segal." 
Art News, 63 (May 1964), pp. 10-11. 

Sidney Jams Gallery, New York. "Recent Work by Claes 
Oldenburg" (large-scale "soft" sculptures of food, clothing, 
and household appliances). April 7-May 2, 1964. Catalogue. 

Canaday, John. "Art: By Claes Oldenburg — An Exhibition of 
Food and Other Things at the Sidney Janis Gallery." The 
New York Times, April 7, 1964, p. 32. 

. "Maybe Hopeful — Symptoms in a New Pop 

Exhibition." The New York Times, April 12, 1964, section 
2, p. 19. 

Genauer, Emily. "The Large Oldenburgs and the Small van 
Goghs." New York Herald Tribune, April 12, 1964, p. 39. 

Jlohnston], Jlill]. "Reviews and Previews: Claes Oldenburg." 

Art News, 63 (May 1964), p. 12. 

lludd], D[onaldl. "In the Galleries: Claes Oldenburg." Arts 
Magazine, 38 (September 1964), p. 63. 

Kozloff, Max. "Art: New Works by Oldenburg." The Nation, 
198 (April 27, 1964), pp. 445-46. 

Rose, Barbara. "New York Letter." Art International, 8 
(Summer 1964), p. 80. 

Green Gallery, New York. "New Work: Part III" (group exhibi- 
tion: Dan Flavin, Donald Judd, Larry Poons, George Segal, 
Richard Smith, Neil Williams). April 8-May 2, 1964. 

Stable Gallery, New York. "Andy Warhol" (facsimiles of gro- 
cery cartons). April 21 -May 9, 1964. 

C[ampbell|, Llawrence). "Reviews and Previews: Andy War- 
hol." Art News, 63 (Summer 1964), p. 16. 

Glueck, Grace. "Art Notes: Boom?" The New York Times, 
May 10, 1964, section 2, p. 19. 

Rose, Barbara. "New York Letter." Art International, 8 
(Summer 1964), p. 80. 

T|illim|, S|idney|. "In the Galleries: Andy Warhol." Arts 
Magazme, 38 (September 1964), p. 62. 

United States Pavilion, 32nd International Biennial Exhibi- 
tion of Art, Venice. "Four Germinal Painters — Four Younger 
Artists" (group exhibition, two sections: Jasper Johns, Morris 
Louis, Kenneth Noland, Robert Rauschenberg; John Cham- 
berlain, Jim Dine, Claes Oldenburg, Frank Stella). June 20- 
October 15, 1964. Catalogue, with essay by Alan R. Solomon. 

"Art: Carnival in Venice." Newsweek, 64 (July 6, 1964), 
pp. 74-75. 

Baro, Gene. "The Canal Goes 'Pop.' " The New York Times, 
June 28, 1964, section 2, p. 12. 

. "The Venice Biennale." Arts Magazine, 38 (Sep- 
tember 1964), pp. 32-37. 

Genauer, Emily. "Art: The Merchandise of Venice." Sunday 
New York Herald Tribune Magazine, July 12, 1964, p. 21. 

Gendel, Milton. "Hugger-mugger at the Giardini." Art 
News, 63 (September 1964), pp. 32-35, 53. 

"Vatican Newspaper Criticizes 'Pop Art.' " The New York 
Times, June 25, 1964, p. 30. 

Zevi, Tullia. "Art: The Biennale— How Evil Is Pop Art?" 
The New Republic, 151 (September 19, 1964), pp. 32-34. 

Green Gallery, New York. "Lucas Samaras" (re-creation of the 
artist's bedroom). September I6-October 10, 1964. 

J[ohnston], J[ill]. "Reviews and Previews: Lucas Samaras." 
Art News, 63 (September 1964), p. 10. 

R|aynor], V|ivien|. "In the Galleries: Lucas Samaras." Arts 
Magazine, 39 (October 1964), pp. 65-66. 

Rose, Barbara. "New York Letter: Lucas Samaras — His Life 
in Art." Art International, 8 (November 1964), p. 54. 

The Hudson River Museum, Yonkers, New York. "8 Young 
Artists" (group exhibition, including Carl Andre). October 
11-25, 1964. Catalogue, with essay by E. C. Goossen. 

Leo Castelli Gallery, New York. "Roy Lichtenstein: Land- 
scapes." October 24-November 19, 1964. 

J[ohnston], J|ill|. "Reviews and Previews: Roy Lichtenstein." 
Art News, 63 (December 1964), p. 15. 

J|udd], D[onaldl. "In the Galleries: Roy Lichtenstein." Arts 
Magazine, 39 (December 1964), p. 66. 

Picard, Lil. "The New School of New York." Das Kunst- 
werk, 18 (December 1964), p. 26. 

Preston, Stuart. "Rear and Advance Guard Marching." The 
New York Times, November I, 1964, section 2, p. 25. 

Rose, Barbara. "New York Letter: Pop Art Revisited." Art 
International, 8 (December 1964), pp. 48-49. 

Sidney Janis Gallery, New York. "Jim Dine" (paintings of 
palettes, bathrobes, color charts). October 27-November 21, 
1964. Catalogue. 

G[ablik|, Sjuzi]. "Reviews and Previews: Jim Dine." Art 
News, 63 (November 1964), p. 12. 

J[udd], D|onald|. "In the Galleries: Jim Dine." Arts Maga- 
zine, 39 (December 1964), p. 72. 

Picard, Lil. "The New School of New York." Das Kiinst- 
werk, 18 (December 1964), p. 26. 

Preston, Stuart. "Rear and Advance Guard Marching." The 
New York Times, November 1, 1964, section 2, p. 25. 

Rose, Barbara. "New York Letter: Pop Art Revisited." Art 
International, 8 (December 1964), pp. 48-49. 

Dwan Gallery, Los Angeles. "Rosenquist" (paintings with 
assemblage elements). October 27-November 24, 1964. 

W|ilson], W[illiam|. "Los Angeles: lames Rosenquist." 
Artforum, 3 (December 1964), pp. 12-13. 

Green Gallery, New York. "Dan Flavin: fluorescent light" 
(sculptures made of fluorescent tubing). November 
18-December 12, 1964. 

Bourdon, David. "Art: Dan Flavin." The Village Voice, 
November 26, 1964, p. 11. 

G(rossberg|, l|acob|. "In the Galleries: Dan Flavin." Arts 
Magazine, 39 (lanuary 1965), p. 54. 

J[ohnston], Hill]. "Reviews and Previews: Dan Flavin." Art 
News, 63 (lanuary 1965), p. 13. 

Lippard, Lucy R. "New York Letter." Art International, 9 
(February 1965), p. 37. 

Leo Castelli Gallery, New York. "Andy Warhol: Flower Paint- 
ings." November 21-December 17, 1964. 

Bourdon, David. "Andy Warhol." The Village Voice, De- 
cember 3, 1964, p. 11. 

Chronology 145 

H[ess|, T[homas| B. "Reviews and Previews: Andy Warhol." 
Art News, 63 (lanuary 1965), p. 11. 

Ferus Gallery, Los Angeles. "Roy Lichtenstein" (paintings). 
November 24-December 1964. 

D|anieli|, F|idel| A. "Los Angeles: Roy Lichtenstein." 
Artforum, 3 (lanuary 1965), p. 12. 

Marmer, Nancy. "Los Angeles Letter." Art International, 9 
(February 1965), pp. 31-32. 

Dwan Gallery, Los Angeles. "Lucas Samaras" (pin- and glass- 
covered boxes, assemblage wall pieces, and multimedia 
"paper bags"). November 24, 1964-lanuary 5, 1965. 

Marmer, Nancy. "Los Angeles Letter." Art International, 9 
(February 1965), p. 31. 

. "Los Angeles: Lucas Samaras." Artforum, 3 (lanuary 

1963), pp. 11-12. 

Green Gallery, New York. "Robert Morris" (seven large 
plywood constructions). December 1964-lanuary 9, 1965. 

l|udd], D|onald]. "In the Galleries: Robert Morris." Arts 
Magazine, 39 (February 1965), p. 54. 

Lippard, Lucy R. "New York Letter." Art International, 9 
(May 1965), pp. 57-58. 

Rose, Barbara. "Looking at American Sculpture." Artforum, 
3 (February 1965), pp. 35-36. 

Selected Happenings/Performances and Reviews 


Douglass College, Rutgers University, New Brunswick, New 
Jersey. Allan Kaprow, Untitled {Happening). April 15, 1958. 

Sun Gallery, Provincetown, Massachusetts. Red Grooms, A 
Play Called Fire (Happening). August-September 1958. 


Reuben Gallery, New York. Allan Kaprow, Intermission Piece 
(sound Happening). June 11, 1959. 

Sun Gallery, Provincetown, Massachusetts. Red Grooms, The 
Walking Man (Happening). September 1959. 

Reuben Gallery, New York. Allan Kaprow, 18 Happenings in 
Six Parts. October 4, 6-10, 1959. 

Livingston, J|ane] H. "Miscellany: Mr. Kaprow's 18 Happen- 
ings." The Village Voice, October 7, 1959, p. 11. 

M[eyer|, A[rline| 1. "Reviews and Previews: Allan Kaprow." 
Art News, 58 (November 1959), p. 14. 

Delancey Street Museum, 148 Delancey Street, New York. 
Red Grooms, The Burning Building (Happening). December 
4-11, 1959. 


Reuben Gallery, New York. Four Evenings (Happenings): Red 
Grooms, The Magic Tram Ride (changed from Fireman's 

Dream); Allan Kaprow, The Big Laugh (changed from fanuary 
Happening); Robert Whitman, Small Cannon. January 8-11, 

Talmer, lerry. "Theatre (?): Three New Happenings." The 
Village Voice, January 13, 1960, p. 9. 

Judson Gallery, ludson Memorial Church, New York. "Ray 
Gun Spex" (Happenings): Claes Oldenburg, Snapshots from 
the City (performed in the environment of The Street); Jim 
Dine, The Smiling Workman (performed in the environ- 
ment of The House); Dick Higgins, Edifices. Cabarets e) 
Einschlutz; Al Hansen, Projections; Allan Kaprow, Coca- 
Cola, Shirley CannonhalU; Robert Whitman, Duet for a 
Small Smell. February 29, March 1-2, 1960. 

"Art: 'Up-Beats.' " Time, 75 (March 14, 1960), p. 80. 

The Living Theatre, New York. A Concert of New Music 
(program arranged by Nicola Cernovich and lames Waring): 
works by George Brecht, lohn Cage, Al Hansen, Ray lohnson, 
Allan Kaprow, Richard Maxfield, lohn Herbert McDowell, 
Robert Rauschenberg, among others. March 14, 1960. 

Memorial Hall, Pratt Institute, New York. A Program of 
Happenings! Events! &'> Situations! (directed by Al Hansen): 
music and performances by George Brecht, Al Hansen, Allan 
Kaprow, lackson Mac Low, among others. May 2, 1960. 

Reuben Gallery, New York. An Evening of: Sound Theatre — 
Happenings: Jim Dine, The Vaudeville Show; Allan Kaprow, 

146 Chronology 

Intermission Piece-, Robert Whitman, E.G.; George Brecht, 
Gossoon; and Richard Maxficld, Electronic Music. June 11, 

Johnston, Jill. "Dance: New 'Happenings' at the Reuben." 
The Village Voice, June 23, 1960, p. 13. 

Robinson, Jean. "New Happenings at the Reuben." The 
Village Voice, June 16, 1960, p. 13. 

The Living Theatre, New York. New York Audiovisual 
Group, New Music (concert): works by Al Hansen, Dick 
Higgins, Ray Johnson, Larry Poons, Jackson Mac Low, among 
others. August 1, 1960. 

Reuben Gallery, New York. Jmi Dme, Car Crash (Happenmg). 
November 1-6, 1960. 

Johnston, Jill. "Art: Car Crash." The Village Voice, Novem- 
ber 10, 1960, p. 8. 

P[etersen|, V[alerie|. "Reviews and Previews: Jim Dine." Art 
News, 59 (December 1960), pp. 16-17. 

Reuben Gallery, New York. Robert Whitman, The American 
Moon (theater piece). November 29-December 7, 1960. 

P[etersen], V[alerie|. "Reviews and Previews: Robert Whit- 
man." Art News, 59 (January 1961), p. 13. 

S|chmidt|, S|andra|. "Theatre: American Moon." The Village 
Voice, December 15, 1960, p. 10. 

Reuben Gallery, New York. Varieties (Happenings): Jim Dine, 
A Shining Bed; Simone Morris (Forti), See Saw and Rollers; 
Claes Oldenburg, Blackouts: Chimney Fire; Erasers; The 
Vitamin Man; Butter and lam. December 16-18, 1960. 

P(etersen|, V(alerie]. "Reviews and Previews: Varieties." Art 
News, 59 (February 1961), p. 16. 


112 Chambers Street, New York. Series of concerts organized 
by La Monte Young at Yoko Ono's loft; performances, dance, 
and music by Jackson Mac Low, Richard Maxfield, Robert 
Morris, Simone Morris (Forti), La Monte Young, among 
others. January-June 1961. 

Reuben Gallery, New York. Claes Oldenburg, Circus (Iron- 
works/ Fotodeathj (two-part Happening). February 1961. 

P[etersenl, V|alerie]. "Reviews and Previews: Varieties." Art 
News, 59 (February 1961), p. 16. 

Jlohnstonj, J[ill|. "Art Without Walls: Claes Oldenburg." Art 
News, 60 (April 1961), pp. 36, 57. 

Nichols, Robert. "Entertainment: Ironworks/Fotodeath." 
The Village Voice, March 2, 1961, p. 10. 

AG Gallery, New York. Series of Literary Evenings and Mu- 
sica Antiqua et Nova concerts: Festival of Electronic Music 
and Concert of New Sounds and Noises (sponsored by Bread 
&) literary magazine and AG Gallery). Works by Trisha 
Brown, Joseph Byrd, John Cage, Walter De Maria, Henry 
Flynt, Dick Higgins, Toshi Ichiyanagi, Ray Johnson, Jackson 
Mac Low, Robert Morris, Simone Morris (Forti), Yvonne 
Rainer, among others. March-July 1961. 

Reuben Gallery, New York. Allan Kaprow, A Spring Happen- 
ing. March 22-27, 1961. 

Johnston, Jill. "Ingenious Womb." The Village Voice, April 
6, 1961, p. 13. 

. "Reviews and Previews: Allan Kaprow." Art News, 

60 (Summer 1961), pp. 61-62. 

Reuben Gallery, New York. Robert Whitman, Mouth (theater 
piece). April 18-23, 1961. 

Carnegie Recital Hall, New York. Yoko Ono, A Grapefruit in 
the World of Park, A Piece for Strawberries and Violin, and 
AOS — to David Tudor (concert): with sound and movement 
by George Brecht, Philip Corner, Jackson Mac Low, Yvonne 
Rainer, La Monte Young, among others. November 24, 1961. 

Green Gallery, New York. Robert Whitman, Ball (theater 
piece). December 29, 30, 1961, and January 2-6, 1962. 

Johnston, Jill. "Dance: Environment, Uptown." The Village 
Voice, January 4, 1962, p. 6. 

. "Reviews and Previews: Robert Whitman." Art 

News, 60 (February 1962), p. 15. 


Henry Street Playhouse, New York. George Brecht, Dithy- 
ramb (music and objects, presented by James Waring and 
Dance Company). January 5, 1962. 

The Living Theatre, New York. An Anthology and An An- 
thology U (concerts): sound, music, and performances by 
contributors to An Anthology to raise money for its printing 
and binding. January 8 and February 5, 1962. 

Maidman Playhouse, New York. American Theater for Poets, 
Inc., Poets Festival: music by Joseph Byrd, Philip Corner, 
Richard Maxfield, La Monte Young; dances by Fred Herko, 
Yvonne Rainer (March 5), Trisha Brown and Fred Herko, 
Aileen Passloff, Yvonne Rainer, James Waring (March 13); 
Happenings by Allan Kaprow, A Service for the Dead, I, and 
Robert Whitman, Movies with Sound, Movements, Song, 
Play (March 22); films by Stan VanDerBeek and Nicola 

Johnston, Jill. "Boiler Room." The Village Voice, March 29, 
1962, p. 14. 

. "Fresh Winds." The Village Voice, March 15, 1962, 

p. 13. 

Moore, Lillian. "Rainer-Herko Dance Recital." New York 
Herald Tribune, March 6, 1962, p. 12. 

Ray Gun Mfg. Co., 107 East Second Street, New York. "Ray 
Gun Theater" (Happenings): Store Days, I, February 23, 24; 
Store Days, II, March 2, 3; Nekropolis, I, March 9-10; 
Nekropolis. II, March 16-17; Injun. I, April 20-21; Injun, II, 
April 27-28; Voyages, I, May 4-5; Voyages, II, May 11-12; 
World's Fair, I, May 18-19; World's Fair, II, May 25-26. 

" 'In' Audience Sees Girls Doused: What Happened? A 
Happening." The New York Times, April 30, 1962, p. 1. 

Johnston, Jill. "Off Off B'Way: 'Happenings' at Ray Gun 
Mfg. Co." The Village Voice, April 26, 1962, p. 10. 

. "Reviews and Previews: New Names This Month — 

Claes Oldenburg." Art News, 61 (May 1962), p. 55. 

Dallas Museum of Contemporary Art. Claes Oldenburg, In- 
jun (second version) (Happening, presented in conjunction 
with the exhibition entitled "1961"). April 6, 7, 1962. 

80 Jefferson Street, New York. George Brecht, Nectarine 
(Event). June 12, 1962. 

Chronology 147 

Judson Memorial Church, New York. Judson Dance Theater, 
Concert of Dance: works by WilHam Davis, Judith Dunn, 
Robert Dunn, Ruth Emerson, David Gordon, Sally Gross, 
Alex Hay, Deborah Hay, Fred Herko, Gretchen MacLane, John 
Herbert McDowell, Steve Paxton, Rudy Perez, Yvonne Rainer, 
Charles Rotmil, Carol Scothorn and Elaine Summers. July 6, 

Hughes, Allen. "Dance Program Seen at Church." The New 
York Times, July 2, 1962, p. 9. 

Johnston, Jill. "Democracy." The ViUage Voice, August 23, 
1962, p. 9. 

Ergo Suits Festival (Happenings and performance pieces): 
Allan Kaprow, Sweeping, in the woods, Woodstock, New 
York; Al Hansen, Car Bibbe, East Hampton, New York; 
Allan Kaprow, A Service for the Dead, II, on the beach, 
Bridgehampton, New York; Alison Knowles, Light House, 
East Hampton, New York; Walter De Maria, Boxes + Balls, 
The Ball Game, East Hampton, New York; and La Monte 
Young, Sopranino, East Hampton, New York, among others. 
August 18-August 25, 1962. 

Tumau Opera House, Woodstock, New York. Judson Dance 
Theater, Concert of Dance 2 (organized by Elaine Summers): 
works by Laura De Freitas and June Ekman and Sally Gross, 
Ruth Emerson, Elizabeth Keen, Elaine Summers. August 31 
(September H), 1962. 

Johnston, Jill. "Central Park: At Woodstock." The Village 
Voice, September 20, 1962, p. 2. 

Green Gallery, New York. Claes Oldenburg, Sports (Happen- 
ing; presented during his one-artist show). September 18, 

Mills Hotel, New York. Allan Kaprow, The Courtyard (Hap- 
pening; sponsored by Smolm Gallery, New York). November 
23-25, 1962. 


Judson Memorial Church, New York. Judson Dance Theater, 
Concert of Dance 3 and 4: works by Trisha Brown, Philip 
Comer, Lucinda Childs, William Davis, Judith Dunn, Ruth 
Emerson, Deborah Hay, Fred Herko, Bob Huot and Robert 
Morris, John Herbert McDowell, Steve Paxton, Steve Paxton 
and Yvonne Rainer, Yvonne Rainer, Arlene Rothlein, Carolee 
Schneemann, Carol Scothorn, Elaine Summers. January 29 
and 30, 1963. 

Johnston, Jill. "Judson Concerts #3, #4." The Village Voice, 
February 28, 1963, p. 9. 

Lexington Hall, University of Chicago. Claes Oldenburg, 
Gayety (Happening). February 8-10, 1963. 

9 Great Jones Street, New York. Robert Whitman, Flower 
(theater piece). Fridays and Saturdays, March 1963. 

Benedikt, Michael. "Happening: Flower." The Village Voice, 
April 4, 1963, pp. 14, 16. 

J[ohnston), J[ill|. "Reviews and Previews: Robert Whitman." 
Art News, 62 (May 1963), p. 62. 

Washington Gallery of Modern Art, Washington, D.C. Claes 
Oldenburg, Stars (Happening; presented as part of the Pop 
Art Festival organized in conjunction with the exhibition 
entitled "The Popular Image"). April 24, 25, 1963. 

Judson Memorial Church, New York. Judson Dance Theater, 
An Evening of Dance: Yvonne Rainer, Terrain. April 28, 29, 

Johnston, Jill. "Yvonne Rainer: I." The ViUage Voice, May 
23, 1963, p. 7. 

. "Yvonne Rainer: II." The Village Voice, June 6, 

1963, pp. 11, 18. 

Smolm Gallery, New York; George Segal's farm. South 
Brunswick, New Jersey; Hardware Poets Playhouse, New 
York. Yam Festival (Happenings, performances, dance, music. 
Events organized by George Brecht and Robert Watts): works 
by George Brecht, John Cage, Lucinda Childs, Philip Corner, 
Red Grooms, Al Hansen, Dick Higgins, Ray Johnson, Allan 
Kaprow, Alison Knowles, George Maciunas, Jackson Mac 
Low, Robert Morris, Yvonne Rainer, Robert Watts, La Monte 
Young, among others. May 1-31, 1963. 

America on Wheels skating rink, Washington, D.C. Judson 
Dance Theater, Concert of Dance 5 (sponsored by the Wash- 
ington Gallery of Modern Art as part of the Pop Art Festival 
organized in conjunction with the exhibition entitled "The 
Popular Image"): works by Trisha Brown, William Davis, 
Judith Dunn, David Gordon, Steve Paxton, Yvonne Rainer, 
Yvonne Rainer and Steve Paxton, Robert Rauschenberg, Al- 
bert Reid. May 9, 1963. 

9 Great Jones Street, New York. Robert Whitman, Hole 
(theatrical piece). May 27-June 1, 1963. 

Judson Memorial Church, New York. Judson Dance Theater, 
Concert of Dance 6, 7, 8: works by Trisha Brown, Lucinda 
Childs, Philip Comer, Judith Dunn, Ruth Emerson, David 
Gordon, Deborah Hay, Fred Herko, Elizabeth Keen, John 
Herbert McDowell, Robert Morris, Rudy Perez, Arlene 
Rothlein, Joseph Schlichter, Sally Stackhouse and Joseph 
Schlichter, Elaine Summers. June 23, 24, 25, 1963. 

Hughes, Allen. "Judson Dance Theater Seeks New Paths." 
The New York Times, June 26, 1963, section 2, p. 34. 

Johnston, Jill. "From Lovely Confusion to Naked Breakfast." 
The Village Voice, July 18, 1963, p. 12. 

. "Judson Speedlimits." The Village Voice, July 25, 

1963, p. 10. 

Gramercy Arts Theater, New York. Judson Dance Theater, 
Concert of Dance 9, 10. 11. 12: works by Eddie Barton, 
Lucinda Childs, Philip Corner, Judith Dunn, Ruth Emerson, 
Sally Gross, Al Hansen, Deborah Hay and Fred Herko, Susan 
Kaufman, Elizabeth Keen, John Herbert McDowell, Aileen 
Passloff, Rudy Perez, Arlene Rothlein, Beverly Schmidt, 
Elaine Summers, James Tenney, James Waring. July 30, Au- 
gust 1, 6, 8, 1963. 

Judson Memorial Church, New York. 1st Festival of the 
Avant Garde (music and performances organized by Charlotte 
Moorman). August 20-September 4, 1963. 

521 N. La Cienega, Los Angeles. Robert Whitman, Water 
(theater piece). September 3, 4, 1963. 

101 Appletree Lane, Berkeley Heights, New Jersey. Judson 
Dance Theater, Afternoon (a Forest Concert): choreographed 
by Steve Paxton. October 6, 1963. 

Johnston, Jill. "Fall Colors." The Village Voice, October 31, 
1963, p. 7. 

Judson Memorial Church, New York. Judson Dance Theater, 
Concert of Dance 13: collaborative event with environment 

148 Chronology 

by sculptor Charles Ross and works by Joan Baker, Carla 
Blank, Lucinda Childs, Philip Corner, Ruth Emerson, Alex 
Hay, Deborah Hay, Yvonne Rainer, Yvonne Rainer and 
Charles Ross, Arlene Rothlein, Carolee Schneemann. Novem- 
ber 19, 20, 1963. 

lohnston, lill. "ludson Collaboration." The Village Voice, 
November 28, 1963, p. 18. 

American institute of Aeronautics and Astronautics parking 
lot, Los Angeles. Claes Oldenburg, Aiitohodys (Happening). 
December 9, 10, 1963. 


Fluxhall, 359 Canal Street, New York. 12 Fluxus Concerts: 
works by George Brecht, Philip Corner, Walter De Maria, 
Robert FiUiou, Dick Higgins, Toshi Ichiyanagi, loe Jones, 
Allan Kaprow, Alison Knowlcs, Shigeko Kubota, lackson Mac 
Low, George Maciunas, fonas Mekas, Robert Morris, Nam 
June Paik, Ben Vautier, Robert Watts, Emmett Williams, La 
Monte Young, among others. March-May 1964. 

Judson Memorial Church, New York. Judson Dance Theater, 
Concert of Dance 14, 15, lb: works by Carla Blank and Sally 
Gross, Lucinda Childs, William Davis, Judith Dunn, David 
Gordon, Sally Gross, Alex Hay and Robert Rauschenberg, 
Deborah Hay, Fred Herko, Tony Holder, Al Kurchin, Deborah 
Lee, Robert Morris, Steve Paxton, Yvonne Rainer, Albert 
Reid, Elaine Summers. April 27, 28, 29, 1964. 

Carnegie Recital Hall, New York. Fluxus Symphony Orchestra 
Concert: works by George Brecht, Philip Corner, Dick 
Higgins, Yoko Ono, Nam June Paik, Robert Watts, Emmett 
Williams, La Monte Young, among others. June 27, 1964. 

Johnston, Jill. "Dance; Fluxus Fluxus." The Village Voice, 
July 2, 1964, p. 7. 

Judson Memorial Church, New York. 2nd Annual New York 
Avant Garde Festival (organized by Charlotte Moorman and 
N. Seaman): performance of Karlheinz Stockhausen's Origi- 
nalc, directed by Allan Kaprow. August 30, 1964. 

Ashton, Dore. "New York Commentary; Recent Happen- 
ings and Unhappenings." Studio International, 168 
(November 1964), pp. 220-23. 

"Avant-Garde; Stuffed Bird at 48 Sharp." Tune, 48 
(September 18, 1964), p. 81. 

Goodman, Susan. "Anti-art Pickets Pick on Stockhausen." 
The Village Voice, September 10, 1964, pp. 3, 8. 

Johnston, Jill. "Dance; Inside Originale." The Village Voice, 
October 1, 1964, pp. 6, 16. 

Kliiver, Billy. "Letter to the Editor; More Incidents." The 
Village Voice, September 24, 1964, p. 4. 

"Music; Birds, Beasts, and Bach." Newsweek, 64 (September 
21, 1964), p. 80. 

Schonberg, Harold. "Music; Stockhausen's 'Originale' 
Given at Judson." The New York Times, September 9, 1964, 
p. 46. 

Washington Square Gallery, New York. Flux Fest; works by 
AY-O, Joe Jones, George Maciunas, among others. September 
9-November 3, 1964. 

Judson Memorial Church, New York. Carolee Schneemann, 
Meat joy (kinetic theater). November 16-18, 1964. 



Jordan Belson, Flight, color, sound, 10 minutes. 

Ed Bland, The Cry of Jazz, black and white, sound, 35 minutes. 

Stan Brakhage, Anticipation of the Night, color, silent, 42 

Robert Breer, Par Avion, color, silent, 3 minutes. 

Shirley Clarke, Brussels "Loops," color, silent, twelve 
2'/2-minute loop films. 

Bruce Conner, A Movie, black and white, sound, 12 minutes. 

Morris Engel, Weddings and Babies, black and white, sound, 
81 minutes. 

Larry lordan. Triptych in Four Parts, color, sound, 12 minutes. 

Lionel Rogosin, Come Back Africa, black and white, sound, 
90 minutes. 

Stan VanDerBeek, Ala Mode, black and white, sound, 
5 minutes. 


Jordan Belson, Raga, color, sound, 7 minutes. 

Charles Boultenhouse, Handwritten, color, sound, 9 minutes. 

Stan Brakhage, Window Water Baby Moving, color, silent, 12 

Robert Breer, Eyewash, color, silent, 3 minutes. 

John Cassavetes, Shadows, black and white, sound, 8 1 minutes. 

Shirley Clarke, Bridges-Go-Round, color, sound, 7 minutes. 

Ed Emshwiller, Dance Chromatic, color, sound, 7 minutes. 

Robert Frank and Alfred Leslie, Pull My Daisy, black and 
white, sound, 29 minutes. 

Ken Jacobs, Star Spangled to Death, black and white and 
color, sound, variable length (2-3 hours). 

Ben Maddow, Sidney Meyers, and Joseph Strick, The Savage 
Eye, black and white, sound, 67 minutes. 

Marie Menken, Dwightiana, color, sound, iVi minutes. 

Stan VanDerBeek, Science Friction, color, sound, 9 minutes. 


Stan Brakhage, The Dead, color, silent, 1 1 minutes. 

Robert Breer, Homage to fean Tinguely's "Homage to New 
York," black and white, sound, 9'/2 minutes. 

Chronology 149 

Shirley Clarke, A Scary Time, black and white, sound, 
20 minutes. 

Ed Emshwiller, Lifelines, color, sound, 7 minutes. 

Larry Jordan, Minerva Looks Out into the Zodiac, black and 
white, sound, 6 minutes. 

Richard Leacock, Al Maysles, D. A. Pennebaker, 

Terence MaCartney-Filgate, Robert Drew, Primary, black and 

white, sound, 53 minutes. 

Ron Rice, The Flower Thief, black and white, sound, 75 

Bert Stern, fazz on a Summer's Day, color, sound, 85 minutes. 

Stan VanDerBeek, Blacks and Whites. Days and Nights, 
black and white, sound, 5 minutes. 

Vernon Zimmerman, Lemon Hearts, black and whitb, sound, 
26 minutes. 


Bruce Baillie, The Gymnasts, black and white, sound, 8 

Jordan Belson, Allures, color, sound, 9 minutes. 

Stan Brakhage, Thigh Line Lyre Triangular, color, silent, 7 

, Prelude: Dog Star Man, color, silent, 25 minutes. 

Shirley Clarke, The Connection, black and white, sound, 100 

Bruce Conner, Cosmic Ray, black and white, sound, 4 minutes. 

Robert Frank, The Sin of Jesus, black and white, sound, 40 

Ken Jacobs, The Death of P'town, color, sound, 7 minutes. 

Jonas Mekas, Guns of the Trees, black and white, sound, 75 

Marie Menken, Arabesque for Kenneth Anger, color, sound, 4 

Harry Smith, No. 12 (Heaven and Earth Magic, The Magic 
Feature), black and white, silent, 66 minutes. 

John Whitney, Catalog, color, sound, 7 minutes. 


Stan Brakhage, Blue Moses, black and white, sound, 1 1 minutes. 

, Dog Star Man: Part I, color, silent, 30 minutes. 

Robert Breer, Horse Over Tea Kettle, color, sound, 8 minutes. 

, Pat's Birthday, black and white, sound, 13 minutes. 

Ed Emshwiller, Thanatopsis, black and white, sound, 5 minutes. 
Marie Menken, Moonplay, black and white, sound, 5 minutes. 
Ron Rice, Senseless, black and white, sound, 28 minutes. 
Jack Smith, Scotch Tape, color, sound, 3 minutes. 


Kenneth Anger, Scorpio Rising, color, sound, 29 minutes. 
Bruce Baillie, To Parsifal, color, sound, 16 minutes. 

Stan Brakhage, Mothlight, color, silent, 4 minutes. 

, Dog Star Man: Part II, color, silent, 7 minutes. 

Shirley Clarke, The Cool World, black and white, sound, 100 

Bruce Conner, Report, black and white, sound, 13 minutes 
(first version). 

Ken Jacobs, Little Stabs at Happiness, color, sound, 
18 minutes. 

, Blonde Cobra, black and white and color, sound, 25 


Adolfas Mekas, Hallelujah the Hills, black and white, sound, 
82 minutes. 

Mane Menken, Notebook, color, silent, 10 minutes. 

Ron Rice, The Queen of Sheba Meets the Atom Man, black 
and white, silent, 70'/2 minutes. 

Jack Smith, Flaming Creatures, black and white, sound, 45 

Andy Warhol, Andy Warhol Films fack Smith Filming 
"Normal Love, " color, silent, 3 minutes. 

, Eat, black and white, silent, 45 minutes. 

, Haircut, black and white, silent, 33 minutes. 

, Kiss, black and white, silent, 50 minutes. 

, Sleep, black and white, silent, 360 minutes. 


Stan Brakhage, Dog Star Man: Part III, color, silent, 8 

, Dog Star Man: Part IV, color, silent, 7 minutes. 

, Songs 1-8, color, silent, 33 minutes. 

Robert Breer, Fist Fight, color, sound, 11 minutes. 

Robert Downey, Babo 73, black and white and color, sound, 
57 minutes. 

Peter Goldman, Echoes of Silence, black and white, sound, 75 

Larry Jordan, Duo Concertantes, black and white, sound, 9 

Stanton Kaye, Georg, black and white, sound, 55 minutes. 

George Landow, Fleming Faloon, black and white and color, 
sound, 7 minutes. 

Jonas Mekas, The Brig, black and white, sound, 68 minutes. 

Ron Rice, Churnlum, color, sound, 26 minutes. 

Michael Snow, New York Eye and Ear Control (A Walking 
Woman Work), black and white, sound, 34 minutes. 

Stan VanDerBeek, Newsreel of Dreams (Part I), color, sound, 
8 minutes. 

Andy Warhol, Batman Dracula, black and white, silent, 120 

, Blow fob, black and white, silent, 33 minutes. 

, Couch, black and white, silent, 40 minutes. 

, Empire, black and white, silent, 480 minutes. 


Compiled by Susan J. Cooke 

The first part of the Bibhography reflects the chapter sequence of the essay "BLAM! The Explosion of Pop, Minimalism, and 
Performance 1958-1964," followed by references for the essay "The American Independent Cinema 1958-1964." The second 
part contains bibliographies for the maior artists discussed, in alphabetical order by artist. Catalogues and reviews for 
exhibitions. Happenings, and performances presented prior to 1965 arc mcluded m the Chronology section. 


"Art: Trend to the 'Anti-Art.' " Newsweek, 51 (March 31, 
1958), pp. 94, 96. 

Bailey, Anthony. "A. E. and the Hell with It!" Esquire, 56 (July 
1961), pp. 104-6. 

Calas, Nicolas. "ContiNuance: On the Possibilities of a New 
Kind of Symbolism in Recent American Painting and 
What Such Symbols Could Possibly Mean." Art News, 57 
(February 1959), pp. 36-39. 

Canaday, John. "Happy New Year! — Thoughts on Critics and 
Certain Painters as the Season Opens," 1959; "Perhaps 
Drastic — A Moratorium on Art Might Be Nice for a 
While, But Could Be Dangerous," I960; "In the Gloam- 
ing: Twilight Seems to Be Setting Rapidly for Abstract 
Expressionism," I960; and "Their Heart Belongs to 
Dada — The Cult of the Irrational Is Having a Revival — 
But Now It's 'Art/ Not 'Anti-art,' " I960; in Embattled 
Critic: Views on Modern Art. New York: Farrar, Straus 
and Cudahy, 1962. 

Constable, Rosalind. "Scouting Report on the Avant-Garde." 
Esquire, 55 (June 1961), pp. 83-88. 

Dallas Museum of Fine Arts and Pollock Galleries, Southern 
Methodist University, Dallas. Poets of the Cities: New 
York and San Francisco 1950-1965 (exhibition cata- 
logue). Essays by Neil A. Chassman, Robert M. Murdock, 
Lana Davis, Robert Creeley, John Clellon Holmes. New 
York: E. R Dutton, 1974. 

Finch, Christopher. "The Object in Art." Art and Artists, 1 
(May 1966), p. 18-21. 

Greenberg, Clement. "The 'Crisis' of Abstract Art," in James 
R. Mellow, ed. Arts Yearbook 7: New York: The Art 
World. New York: The Art Digest, 1964. 

Hess, Thomas B. "The Phony Crisis in American Art." Art 
News, 63 (Summer 1963), pp. 24-28, 59-60. 

Janis, Harriet, and Rudi Blesh. Collage: Personalities, Con- 
cepts, Techniques. Philadelphia: Chilton Book Company, 
1967. Revised edition. 

Rose, Barbara. "The Second Generation: Academy and Break- 
through." ArtfoTum, 4 (September 1965), pp. 53-63. 

Rosenberg, Harold. "Action Painting; A Decade of Distortion." 
Art News, 61 (December 1962), pp. 42-44, 62-63. 

Sandler, Irving. The New York School: The Painters and 

Sculptors of the Fifties. New York: Harper &. Row, 1978. 

Seckler, Dorothy Gees. "The Artist in America: Victim of the 
Culture Boom?" Art in America, 51 (December 1963), pp. 


Henri, Adrian. Total Art: Environments, Happenings, and 
Performance. New York: Praeger Publishers, 1974. 

Johnston, Jill. " 'Happenings' on the New York Scene." En- 
core, 9 (September-October 1962), pp. 8-13. 

Kaprow, Allan. Assemblage. Environments e) Happenings. 
New York: Harry N. Abrams, 1966. 

. "The Demiurge," including "Something to Take 

Place: A Happening" and an untitled essay. The An- 
thologist (Rutgers University), 30, no. 4 (Winter 1959), pp. 
4-17. "Something to Take Place: A Happening" reprinted 
in Michael Kirby. Happenings: An Illustrated Anthology. 
New York: E. P. Dutton, 1966. Untitled essay reprinted in 
Allan Kaprow. Untitled Essay, and Other Works. New 
York: Something Else Press, 1967. 

. "The Happenings Are Dead." Artforum, 4 (March 

1966), pp. 36-39. 

. " 'Happenings' in the New York Scene." Photographs 

by Robert R. McElroy. Art News, 60 (May 1961), pp. 
36-39, 58-62. 

. "The Legacy of Jackson Pollock." Art News, 57 (Oc- 
tober 1958), pp. 24-26, 55-57. 

. "One Chapter from 'The Principles of Modem Art.' " 

It Is, no. 4 (Autumn 1959), pp. 51-52. 

. "Pinpointing Happenings." Art News, 66 (October 

Goldberg, RoseLee. Performance: Live Art 1909 to the Pres- 
ent. New York: Harry N. Abrams, 1979. 

Hansen, Al. A Primer of Happenings &) Time/Space Art. New 
York: Something Else Press, 1965. 

1967), pp. 46-47, 70-71. 
Kirby, Michael. Happenings: An Illustrated Anthology. New 

York: E. P. Dutton, 1966. Statements by Jim' Dine, Claes 

Oldenburg, and Robert Whitman. 
Kozloff, Max. "Art." The Nation, 205 (July 3, 1967), pp. 27-29. 
Seckler, Dorothy Gees. "The Artist in America: The Audience Is 

His Medium !"^rtjni4mericfl, 51 (April 1963), pp. 62-67. 
Wilcock, John. "What's Going on Here?" Photographs by 

Robert R. McElroy. New York Herald Tribune Sunday 

Magazine, May 5, 1963, pp. 4-5, 15. 


Art and Artists, 7 (October 1972). Special issue on FluxuS; 

articles by Ken Friedman, Dick Higgins, Victor Mus- 

grave, Michael Nyman, Robin Page, Tomas Schmit. 
Cranbrook Academy of Art Museum, Bloomfield Hills, 

Michigan. Fluxus Etc.: The Gilbert and Lila Silverman 

Collection (exhibition catalogue), 1981. Edited by Jon 

Fluxus Etc. /Addenda I: The Gilbert and Lila Silverman 

Collection (exhibition catalogue). Catalogue by Melanie 

Hedlund, Jon Hendricks, Gilbert Silverman, Lori Tucci. 

New York: Ink &, 1983. 
Friedman, Ken, and Peter Frank. Young Fluxus (exhibition 

catalogue). New York: Artists Space, 1982. 
Kolnischer Kunstverein, Cologne. Happenings and Fluxus 

(exhibition catalogue), 1970. Compiled by H. Sohm. 


Bibliography 151 

Moore, Barbara. "George Maciunas: A Finger in Fluxus." 

Artforum, 8 (October 1982), pp. 38-45. 
Museum Wiesbaden. 1962 Wiesbaden Fluxus 1982: Eine 

kleine Geschichte von Fluxus in drei Teilen (exhibition 

catalogue). Harlekin Art, Berliner Kunstlerprogramm des 

DAAD, 1982. Compiled by Rene Block. 
Ruhe, Harry. Fluxus. the Most Radical and Experimental Art 

Movement of the Sixties. Amsterdam: 'A,' 1979. 
Young, La Monte, ed. An Anthology. New York: La Monte 

Young and Jackson Mac Low, 1963. New York: Heiner 

Friedrich, 1970. Second edition. 

The New American Dance 

Ballet Review, 1, no. 6 (1967). Special issue on Judson Dance 
Theater; articles by Jill Johnston, Judith Dunn, Con- 
stance H. Poster, as well as a discussion among Judson 
participants and a chronology of performances. 

Banes, Sally. "Democracy's Body: Judson Dance Theatre and 
Its Legacy." Performing Arts Journal, 5 (1981), pp. 98-106. 

. "Judson Dance Theatre: Democracy's Body, 1962- 

1964." Ph.D. dissertation. New York University, 1980. 

Bennington College Judson Project. Judson Dance Theater: 
1962-1966 (exhibition catalogue), 1981. Edited by Wendy 
Perron and Daniel J. Cameron; essays by Jill Johnston, 
Sally Banes. 

Forti, Simone. Handbook in Motion. New York: New York 
University Press, 1974. 

Institute of Contemporary Art, Inc., Boston. Art e) Dance: 
Images of the Modern Dialogue. 1890-1980 (exhibition 
catalogue), 1982. Essays by Marianne Martin, Iris M. 
Fanger, Deborah Jowitt, David Vaughan, David A. Ross, 
Elisabeth Sussman. 

Johnston, Jill. "The New American Modern Dance." Art and 
Literature, 5 (Summer 1965), pp. 118-33. 

McDonagh, Don. "Notes on Recent Dance." Artforum, 11 
(December 1972), pp. 48-52. 

Rainer, Yvonne. "A Quasi Survey of Some 'Minimalist' Ten- 
dencies in the Quantitatively Minimal Dance Activity 
Midst the Plethora, Or an Analysis of Trio A," in Greg- 
ory Battcock, ed. Minimal Art: A Critical Anthology. 
New York: E. R Dutton, 1968. 

. Work: 1961-1973. Halifax: The Press of the Nova 

Scotia College of Art and Design, 1974. 

Tomkins, Calvin. "Profiles: An Appetite for Motion" (Merce 
Cunningham). The New Yorker, 44 (May 4, 1968), pp. 

Tulane Drama Review, 10 (Winter 1965). Special issue on 

dance, Fluxus, and Happenings; articles by Robert Morris 
and Claes Oldenburg. 

Pop Art 

Alloway, Lawrence. American Pop Art (exhibition catalogue). 
New York: Collier Books in association with the 
Whitney Museum of American Art, 1974. 

. "Pop Art: The Words" (1962), in Topics in American 

Art Since 1945. New York: W.W. Norton, 1975. 

"Popular Culture and Pop Art." Studio International, 

Art Gallery of Toronto, Ontario. Dine, Oldenburg, Segal: 

Painting/Sculpture (exhibition catalogue), 1967. Essays by 
Alan Solomon, Ellen H. Johnson, Robert Pincus-Witten. 
Unpublished manuscript in the Whitney Museum of 
American Art Library files of "The Toronto Symposium: 
Perishability, Pop Art, and the Happening: A New Look," 
organized and moderated by Brydon Smith with Jim 
Dine, Claes Oldenburg, and George Segal as participants, 
January 1967. 

Art International, 7 (January 1963). Special issue on "The 
New Realism, Neo-Dada, Common Object Painting, 
etc."; articles by Barbara Rose, Pierre Restany, Sonya 
Rudikoff, Ellen H. Johnson, Allan Kaprow. 

"Art: Something New Is Cooking." Life, 52 (June 15, 1962), pp. 

"Art: The Slice-of-Cake School." Time, 79 (May 11, 1962), p. 52. 

Baldwin, Carl R. "On the Nature of Pop." Artforum, 12 (June 
1974), pp. 34-38. 

Bannard, Darby. "Present-Day Art and Ready-Made Styles in 
Which the Formal Contribution of Pop Art Is Found to 
be Negligible." Artforum, 5 (December 1966), pp. 30-35. 

Canaday, John. "Pop Art Sells On and On — Why?" The New 
York Times Magazine, May 31, 1964, pp. 7, 48, 52-53. 

Diamonstein, Barbaralee. Inside New York's Art World. New 
York: Rizzoli International Publications, 1979. 

Finch, Christopher. Pop Art: Object and Image. London and 
New York: Studio Vista and E. R Dutton, 1968. 

F[rankfurter], A[lfred]. "Editorial: Pop Extremists." Art News, 
63 (September 1964), pp. 19, 54-55. 

Gablik, Suzi. "Protagonists of Pop." Studio International, 178 
(July-August 1969), pp. 9-16. 

Geldzahler, Henry, and Kenworth Moffett. "Pop Art: Two 
Views." Art News, 73 (May 1974), pp. 30-32. 

Glaser, Bruce. "Oldenburg, Lichtenstein, Warhol: A Discus- 
sion." Artforum, 43 (February 1966), pp. 20-24. (Tran- 
script of a radio interview originally broadcast on WBAI, 
New York, June 1964.) See also Bruce Glaser, "Letter to 
the Editor." Artforum, 4 (April 1966). 

Gray, Cleve. "Art Centers: New York — Remburgers and 
Hambrandts." Art in America, 51 (December 1963), 
pp. 118-20, 123-29. 

H|essl, T|homasl B. "Editorial: Pop and Public." Art News, 62 
(November 1963), pp. 23, 59-60. 

Irwm, David. "Pop Art and Surrealism." Studio International, 
171 (May 1966), pp. 187-91. 

Johnson, Ellen H. "The Image Duplicators — Lichtenstein, 
Rauschenberg and Warhol." Canadian Art, 23 (January 
1966), pp. 12-19. 

Karp, Ivan C. "Anti-Sensibility Painting." Artforum, 1, no. 3 
(1963), pp. 26-27. 

Kelly, Edward T. "Neo-Dada: A Critique of Pop Art." Art 
fournal, 23 (Spring 1964), pp. 192-201. 

Kozloff, Max. "Art and the New York Avant-Garde." Partisan 
Review, 31 (Fall 1964), pp. 535-54. 

. "Dissimulated Pop." The Nation, 199 (November 30, 

1964), pp. 417-19. 

. "The New American Painting: Post-Abstract-Expres- 
sionism — Mask and Reality," in Richard Kostelanetz, ed. 
The New American Arts. New York: Collier Books, 1967. 

. " 'Pop' Culture, Metaphysical Disgust, and the New 

78 (July-August 1969), pp. 17-21. 
Amayo, Mario. Pop Art . . . And After. New York: The 

Viking Press, 1966. 
Art Gallery, University of California, Irvine. New York: The 

Second Breakthrough, 1959-1964 (exhibition catalogue), 

1969. Essay by Alan Solomon. 

Vulgarians." Art International, 6 (March 1962), pp. 34-36. 
Kuspit, Donald B. "Pop Art: A Reactionary Realism." Art 

fournal, 36 (Fall 1976), pp. 31-38. 
Lippard, Lucy R. Pop Art. With contributions by Lawrence 

Alloway, Nancy Marmer, Nicolas Calas. New York: 

Praeger Publishers, 1966. 

152 Bibliography 

Lucie-Smith, Edward. "Pop Art," in Nikos Stangos, ed. Con- 
cepts of Modern Art. New York: Harper & Row, 1981. 
Second edition. 

Plagens, Peter. "Present-Day Styles and Ready-Made Criticism 
in Which the Formal Contrihution of Pop Art Is Found to 
Be Minimal." Artforum, 5 (December 1966), pp. 36-39. 

"Pop Art — Cult of the Commonplace." Time, 81 (May 3, 
1963), pp. 69-72. 

Reichardt, Jasia. "Pop Art and After." Art International, 7 
(February 1963), pp. 42-47. 

Richardson, John Adkins. "Dada, Camp, and the Mode Called 
Pop." Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism, 24 (Sum- 
mer 1966), pp. 549-58. 

Rosenblum, Robert. "Pop and Non-Pop: An Essay in Distinc- 
tion." Canadian Art, 23 (January 1966), pp. 50-54. 

Rublowsky, John. Pop Art. Photography by Ken Heyman. 
New York: Basic Books, 1965. 

Russell, John, and Suzi Gablik. Pop Art Redefined (exhibition 
catalogue). London: Thames and Hudson, published in 
conjunction with an exhibition presented at the Hayward 
Gallery, 1969. 

Saarinen, Aline B. "Explosion of Pop Art: A New Kind of Fine 
Art Imposing Poetic Order on the Mass-produced World." 
Vogue, 141 (April 15, 1963), pp. 86-87, 134, 136, 142. 

Sandberg, John. "Some Traditional Aspects of Pop Art." Art 
Journal, 26 (Spring 1967), pp. 228-33, 245. 

Sandler, Irving H. "New York Letter." Quadrum, 14(1963), 
pp. 117-20. 

Seckler, Dorothy Gees. "The Artist in America: Folklore of 
the Banal." Art w America, 50 (Winter 1962), pp. 56-61. 

Selz, Peter. "Special Supplement: A Symposium on Pop Art." 
Arts Magazine, 37 (April 1963), pp. 36-45. 

"Sold Out Art: More Buyers Than Ever Sail in to a Broaden- 
ing Market." Life, 55 (September 20, 1963), pp. 125-29. 

Solomon, Alan R. "The New American Art." Art Interna- 
tional, 8 (March 1964), pp. 50-55. 

. New York: Tfie New Art Scene. Photographs by Ugo 

Mulas. New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1967. 

Swenson, G|enel R. "The New American 'Sign Painters.' " Art 
News, 61 (September 1962), pp. 44-47, 60-62. 

. "What Is Pop Art", Part I: Jim Dine, Robert Indiana, 

Roy Lichtenstein, Andy Warhol." Art News, 62 (Novem- 
ber 1963), pp. 24-27, 60-64. 

"What Is Pop Art?, Part II: Stephen Durkee, Jasper 

Johns, James Rosenquist, Tom Wesselmann." Art News, 
62 (February 1964), pp. 40-43, 62-67. 

Tillim, Sidney. "Further Observations on the Pop Phenom- 
enon: 'All Revolutions Have Their Ugly Aspects . . .' " 
Artforum, 4 (November 1965), pp. 17-19. 

. "Toward a Literary Revival?" Arts Magazine, 39 (May- 
June 1965), pp. 30-33. 

Tuchman, Phyllis. "Pop! Interviews with George Segal, Andy 
Warhol, Roy Lichtenstein, James Rosenquist, and Robert 
Indiana." Art News, 73 (May 1974), pp. 24-29. 


Battcock, Gregory, ed. Minimal Art: A Critical Anthology. 
New York: E. P Dutton, 1968. 

Blok, C. "Minimal Art at The Hague." Art International, 12 
(May 1968), pp. 18-24. 

Bochner, Mel. "Serial Art Systems: Solipsism." Arts Maga- 
zine, 41 (Summer 1967), pp. 39-43. 

Burnham, Jack. "Systems Esthetics." Artforum, 7 (September 
1968), pp. 30-35. 

Danoff, I. Michael. Emergence e) Progression: Six Contempo- 
rary American Artists (exhibition catalogue). The New 
Milwaukee Art Center, 1979. 

Davis, Douglas M. "The Dimensions of the Mimarts." Art in 
America, 55 (November 1967), pp. 84-91. 

Fried, Michael. "Art and Objecthood." Artforum, 5 (June 1967), 
pp. 12-23. 

. "Modernist Painting and the Formal Criticism." The 

American Scholar, 33 (Autumn 1964), pp. 642-48. 

Gablik, Suzi. "Minimalism," in Nikos Stangos, ed. Concepts 
of Modern Art. New York: Harper &. Row, 1981. Second 

Gemeentemuseum, The Hague. Minimal Art (exhibition cat- 
alogue), 1968. Essays by Enno Develing and Lucy R. 
Lippard; statements by some of the artists. 

The Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum, New York. Systemic 
Painting (exhibition catalogue), 1966. Essay by Lawrence 

The Jewish Museum, New York. Primary Structures: Younger 
American and British Sculptors (exhibition catalogue), 
1966. Essay by Kynaston McShine. 

Judd, Donald. "Local History," in James R. Mellow, ed. Arts 
Yearbook 7: New York: The Art World. New York: The 
Art Digest, 1964. 

. "Specific Objects," in William Seitz, ed. Arts Year- 
book 8: Contemporary Sculpture. New York: The Art 
Digest, 1965. 

Kramer, Hilton. "Episodes from the Sixties." Art in America, 
58 (January-February 1970), pp. 56-61. 

Krauss, Rosalind E. Passages in Modern Sculpture. New York: 
The Viking Press, 1977. 

Lippard, Lucy R. "Rejective Art." Art International, 10 (Oc- 
tober 1966), pp. 33-37. 

, and John Chandler. "The Dematerialization of Art." 

Art International, 12 (February 1968), pp. 31-36. 

Lucie-Smith, Edward. "Minimalism," in Tony Richardson and 
Nikos Stangos, eds. Concepts of Modern Art. New York: 
Harper &. Row, 1974. 

Morris, Robert. "Notes on Sculpture." Artforum, 4 (February 
1966), pp. 42-44. "Notes on Sculpture, Part 2." Artforum, 
5 (October 1966), pp. 20-23. "Notes on Sculpture, Part 3: 
Notes and Nonsequiturs." Artforum, 5 (Summer 1967), 
pp. 24-29. "Notes on Sculpture, Part 4: Beyond Objects." 
Artforum, 7 (April 1969), pp. 50-54. 

The Museum of Modern Art, New York. The Art of the Real: 
USA 1948-1968 (exhibition catalogue), 1968. Essay by 
E. C. Goossen. Greenwich, Connecticut: New York 
Graphic Society. 

Perreault, John. "Union-Made: Report on a Phenomenon." 
Artforum, 5 (March 1967), pp. 26-31. 

Pierce, James Smith. "Design and Expression in Minimal 
Art." Art International, 12 (May 1968), pp. 25-27. 

Project Studios One, Institute for Art and Urban Resources, 
Inc., New York. Abstract Painting: 1960-1969 (exlubition 
catalogue), 1982. 

Rose, Barbara. "ABC Art." Art in America, 53 (October-No- 
vember 1965), pp. 57-69. 

. A New Aesthetic (exhibition catalogue). Washington 

Gallery of Modern Art, 1967. 

. "Problems of Criticism, V: The Politics of Art, Part 

II." Artforum, 7 (January 1969), pp. 44-49. 
. "The Value of Didactic Art." Artforum, 5 (April 1967), 

pp. 32-36. 
Sandler, Irving. "The New Cool-Art." Art m America, 53 

(February 1965), pp. 96-101. 

Solomon, Alan. "American Art Between Two Biennales." 
Metro, 11 (June 1966|, pp. 24-35. 

Studio International, 177 (April 1969). Special issue on Mini- 
malism; articles and statements by Barbara Reise, Dan 
Flavin, Carl Andre, Donald Judd. 

Tuchman, Maurice, ed. American Sculpture of the Sixties 
(exhibition catalogue). Essays by Lawrence AUoway, 
Wayne V. Anderson, Dore Ashton, John Coplans, Clement 
Greenberg, Max Kozloff, Lucy R. Lippard, lames Monte, 
Barbara Rose, Irving Sandler; statements by some of the 
artists. Los Angeles County Museum of Art, 1967. 

Tuchman, Phyllis. "Minimalism and Critical Response." 
ArtfoTum, 15 (May 1977), pp. 26-31. 

Wollheim, Richard. "Minimal Art." Arts Magazine, 39 (Janu- 
ary 1965), pp. 26-32. 


The American Federation of Arts, New York. A History of 
the American Avant-Garde Cmema (exhibition cata- 
logue), 1976. 

Anger, Kenneth. Magick Lantern Cycle: A Special Presenta- 
tion in Celebration of the Equinox Spring 1966 (exhibi- 
tion catalogue). New York: Film-Makers' Cinematheque, 

. Hollywood Babylon. San Francisco: Straight Arrow 

Books, by arrangement with The Stonehill Publishing 
Company, 1975. 

Battcock, Gregory, ed. The New American Cinema. New 
York: E. P Dutton, 1967. 

Brakhage, Stan. "Metaphors on Vision." Film Culture, 30 
(Autumn 1963). 

. Brakhage Scrapbook: Collected Writings 1964-1980. 

New Paltz, New York: Documentext, 1982. Edited by 
Robert A. Haller. 

Carney, Raymond. American Dreaming: The Films of John 
Cassavetes and the American Experience. Berkeley: Uni- 
versity of California Press, 1984. 

Clark, Dan. Brakhage. Film-Makers' Cinematheque Mono- 
graph Series 2. New York: Film Culture, 1966. 

Coplans, John, ed. Andy Warhol. Greenwich, Connecticut: 
New York Graphic Society, 1970. 

Curtis, David. Experimental Cinema. New York: Universe 
Books, 1971. 

Film Culture, 56-57 (Fall-Winter 1972-73). Articles on Breer. 

Filmwise 1: Stan Brakhage. New York: Cinema 16 and Film- 
Makers' Cooperative, 1961. Issue devoted to Brakhage. 

Filmwise 3 &> 4: Markopoulos. New York: Cinema 16 and 
Film-Makers' Cooperative, 1963. Collection of articles on 
and by Markopoulos. 

Gidal, Peter. Andy Warhol: Films and Paintings. New York: 
Dutton Picturebacks, 1971. 

Gutman, Walter. The Gutman Letters. New York: Something 
Else Press, 1969. 

Hitchens, Gordon. "Survey Among Unsuccessful Applicants 
for the Ford Foundation Film Grants," Film Comment, 2 
(Summer 1964), pp. 10-32. 

Hoberman, J. "The Short Happy Life of the Charles." Amer- 
ican Film, 6 (March 1982), pp. 22, 34. 

Jacobs, Lewis, ed. The Documentary Tradition from 

"Nanook" to "Woodstock." New York: Hopkinson and 
Blake, 1971. 

Koch, Stephen. Stargazer: Andy Warhol's World and His 
Films. New York: Praeger Publishers, 1973. 

Bibliography 153 

LeGrice, Malcolm. Abstract Film and Beyond. Cambridge, 

Massachusetts: The MIT Press, 1977. 
Levin, G. Roy, ed. Documentary Exploration: 15 Interviews 

with Film-makers. Garden City, New York: Doubleday, 

Mamber, Stephen. Cinema Verite in America: Studies in 

Uncontrolled Documentary. Cambridge, Massachusetts: 

The MIT Press, 1974. 
Mekas, Jonas. "Cinema of the New Generation." Film 

Culture, 21 (Summer 1960), pp. 1-20. 
. "Notes on the New American Cinema." Film Culture, 

24 (Summer 1962), pp. 6-16. 
. Movie Journal: The Rise of the New American Cin- 

ema. 1959-1971. New York: Collier Books, 1972. 

Renan, Sheldon. An Introduction to the American Under- 
ground Film. New York: E. P. Dutton, 1967. 

Rice, Ron. "Diaries, Notebooks, Scripts, Letters, Documents." 
Film Culture, 39 (1965), pp. 87-125. 

Riedel, Fred. "Interview with Ken Jacobs," in Abstract Paint- 
ing: 1960-1969 (exhibition catalogue). New York: Project 
Studios One, Institute for Art and Urban Resources, 
1982, unpaginated. 

Rowe, Carel. The Baudelairean Cinema: A Trend within the 
American Avant-Garde. Ann Arbor, Michigan: UMl Re- 
search Press, 1982. 

Sitney, P. Adams. Visionary Film: The American Avant- 
Garde. New York: Oxford University Press, 1974. 

, ed. Film Culture Reader. New York: Praeger Pub- 
lishers, 1970. 

, ed. The Essential Cinema: Essays on Films in the 

Collection of Anthology Film Archives. Anthology Film 
Archives Series 2, Volume One. New York: Anthology 
Film Archives and New York University Press, 1975. 
-, ed. The Avant-Garde Film: A Reader of Theory and 

Criticism. New York: New York University Press, 1978. 
Smith, Jack. "The Perfect Filmic Appositeness of Maria 

Montez." Film Culture, 17 (1962-63), pp. 28-32. 
. "Belated Appreciation of VS." Film Culture, 31 

(Winter 1963-64), pp. 4-5. 
. "The Memoirs of Maria Montez or Wait for Me at the 

Bottom of the Pool." Film Culture, 31 (Winter 1963-64), 

pp. 3-4. 
Tomkins, Calvin. "Profile: All Pockets Open." The New 

Yorker, 48 (January 6, 1973), pp. 31-49. Profile of Jonas 

Tyler, Parker. The Three Faces of the Film. Cranbury, New 

Jersey: A. S. Barnes, 1967. Revised edition. 
. Underground Film: A Critical History. New York: 

Grove Press, 1969. 
Vanderbeek, Stan. "The Cinema Delimina: Films from the 

Underground." Film Quarterly, 14 (Summer 1961), pp. 

Walker Art Center, Minneapolis. The American New Wave, 

1958-1967 (exhibition catalogue), 1982. Edited by Bruce 

Jenkins and Melinda Ward. 
Warhol, Andy, and Pat FJackett. Popism: The Warhol '60s. 

New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1980. 
Youngblood, Gene. Expanded Cinema. New York: E. P. Dut- 
ton, 1970. 

154 Bibliography 

Selected Artists 

Carl Andre 

Bourdon, David. Carl Andre: Sculpture 1959-1977 (exhibition 

catalogue). Foreword by Barbara Rose. New York: Jaap 

Rietman, 1978. 
Buchloh, Benjamin H. D., ed. Carl Andre. HoUis Franipton: 

12 Dialogues. 1962-1963. Photographs by Hollis 

Frampton. Halifax: The Press of the Nova Scotia College 

of Art and Design, and New York: New York University 

Press, 1981. 
Develing, Enno. "Carl Andre: Art as a Social Fact." 

Artscanada, 27 (December 1970-lanuary 1971), 

pp. 47-49. 
The Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum, New York. Carl 

Andre (exhibition catalogue), 1970, Compiled by Diane 

Stedelijk Van Abbemuscum, Eindhoven, Netherlands. Carl 

Andre: Wood, 1978. Preface by R. H. Fuchs; statement by 

the artist. 
Tuchman, Phyllis. "An Interview with Carl Andre." Arf/orum, 

8 (June 1970), pp. 55-61. 

George Brecht 

Brecht, George. Chance-Imagery. New York: Something Else 
Press, 1966. Text originally written in 1957. 

Martin, Henry. "An Interview with George Brecht." Art In- 
ternational, 11 (November 1967), pp. 20-24. 

, ed. An Introduction to George Brecht's Book of the 

Tumbler on Fire. With an anthology of texts by and 
interviews with the artist. Milan: Multhipla Edizioni, 

Nyman, Michael. "George Brecht." Studio International, 192 
(November-December 1976), pp. 256-66. 

Onnasch Gallery, New York. George Brecht: Works 1957- 
1973 (exhibition catalogue), 1974. 

Van der Marck, Jan. "George Brecht: An Art of Multiple 

Implications." Art in America, 62 (July-August 1974), pp. 

Walter De Maria 

"Art: Sculpture— High Priest of Danger." Time, 93 (May 2, 
1969), p. 54. 

Bourdon, David. "Walter De Maria: The Singular Experience." 
Art International, 12 (December 1968), pp. 39-43, 72. 

Hessisches Landesmuseum, Darmstadt, West Germany. Wal- 
ter De Maria: Der grosse Erdraum: 8 Skulpturen, 44 
Zeichnungen (exhibition catalogue), 1974. 

Kunstmuseum Basel. Walter De Maria: Skulpturen (exhibi- 
tion catalogue), 1972. 

Jim Dine 

Galas, Nicolas. "Jim Dine: Tools &. Myth." Metro, 7 (De- 
cember 1962), pp. 76-77. 

Gordon, John, fim Dine (exhibition catalogue). New York: 
Whitney Museum of American Art and Praeger Pub- 
lishers, 1970. 

Gruen, John. "Jim Dine and the Life of Objects." Art News, 
76 (September 1977), pp. 38-42. 

Johnson, Ellen H. "Jim Dine and Jasper Johns: Art About Art." 
Art and Literature, 6 (Autumn 1965), pp. 128-40. 

Kozloff, Max. "The Honest Elusiveness of James Dine." 

Artforum, 3 (December 1964), pp. 36-40. 
Shapiro, David. Jim Dine: Painting What One Is. New York: 

Harry N. Abrams, 1981. 
Smith, Brydon. "Jim Dine — Magic and Reality." Canadian 

Art, 23 (January 1966), pp. 30-34. 
Solomon, Alan R. "Jim Dine and the Psychology of the New 

Art." Art International, 8 (October 1964), pp. 52-56. 

Dan Flavin 

Baker, Elizabeth C. "The Light Brigade." Photographs by 

Ferdinand Boesch. Art News, 66 (March 1967), pp. 52-55, 

The National Gallery of Canada, Ottawa. Dan Flavin, fluores- 
cent light, etc. from Dan Flavin (exhibition catalogue), 
1969. Catalogue by Brydon Smith; essays by Mel 
Bochner, Don Judd, and the artist. 

Wallraf-Richartz-Museum and Kunsthalle Koln, Cologne. Dan 
Flavin: Three installations in fluorescent light (exhibi- 
tion catalogue), 1973. Catalogue by Evelyn Weiss, Dieter 
Ronte, Manfred Schneckenburger; writings by the artist. 

Red Grooms 

Allan Frumkin Gallery, New York. Red Grooms: The Early 

Sixties (exhibition catalogue), 1983. 
Glueck, Grace. "Odd Man Out: Red Grooms, the Ruckus 

Kid." Art News, 72 (December 1973), pp. 23-27. 
Tully, Judd. Red Grooms and Ruckus Manhattan. New York: 

George Braziller, 1977. 

Jasper Johns 

Alloway, Lawrence. "The Man Who Liked Cats: The Evolu- 
tion of Jasper Johns." Arts Magazine, 44 (September- 
October 1969), pp. 40-43. 

Cnchton, Michael, fasper fohns (exhibition catalogue). New 
York: Harry N. Abrams, in association with the Whitney 
Museum of American Art, 1977. 

Hopps, Walter. "An Interview with Jasper Johns." Artforum, 3 
(March '965), pp. 32-36. 

Kozloff, Max. /flsper/oftns. New York: Harry N. Abrams, 1969. 

Rose, Barbara. "Decoys and Doubles: Jasper Johns and the 
Modernist Mind." Arts Magazine, 50 (May 1976), 
pp. 68-73. 

Rosenblum, Robert. "Jasper Johns." Art International, 4 
(September 1960), pp. 74-77. 

Steinberg, Leo. "Jasper Johns" (1962), revised and expanded as 
"Jasper Johns: The First Seven Years of His Art," in Other 
Criteria: Confrontations v^rith Twentieth-Century Art. 
New York: Oxford University Press, 1972. 

Donald Judd 

Agee, William C. Don fudd (exhibition catalogue). New York: 

Whitney Museum of American Art, 1968. 
. "Unit, Series, Site: A Judd Lexicon." Art in America, 

63 (May-June 1975), pp. 40-50. 
Coplans, John. Don fudd (exhibition catalogue). Pasadena Art 

Museum, 1971. 

Bibliography 155 

Glaser, Bruce. "Questions to Stella and ludd." Edited by Lucy 
Lippard. Art News, 65 (September 1966), pp. 55-61. 

Judd, Donald. Complete Writings. 1959-1975: Gallery Re- 
views, Book Reviews, Articles. Letters to the Editor. 
Reports, Statements, Complaints. Halifax: The Press of 
the Nova Scotia College of Art and Design, and New 
York: New York University Press, 1975. 

MuUer, Gregoire. "Donald ludd: Ten Years." Arts Magazine, 
48 (February 1973), pp. 35-42. 

The National Gallery of Canada, Ottawa. Don ludd (exhibi- 
tion catalogue), 1975. Compiled by Brydon Smith; essay 
by Roberta Smith. 

Knight Gallery/Spint Square Arts Center, Charlotte, North 
Carolina. Donald Judd: Eight Works m Three Dimen- 
sions (exhibition catalogue), 1984. Compiled by Brian 

Allan Kaprow 

Alloway, Lawrence. "Allan Kaprow, Two Views," in Topics 
in American Art Since 1945. New York: W. W. Norton, 

Kaprow, Allan. "Should the Artist Become a Man of the 

World?" Art News, 63 (October 1964), pp. 34-37, 58. See 
rebuttal by T|homas| B. H|ess]. "Editorial: The Artist as a 
Company Man," ibid., p. 19; and Allan Kaprow, "Editor's 
Letters." Art News, 63 (December 1964), p. 6. 

Pasadena Art Museum. Allan Kaprow (exhibition catalogue), 

Sandler, Irving. "In the Art Galleries." New York Post, June 
16, 1963, section 2, p. 14. Interview with Allan Kaprow. 

Roy Lichtenstein 

Alloway, Lawrence. "On Style: An Examination of Roy 

Lichtenstein's Development, Despite a New Monograph 
on the Artist." Artforum, 10 (March 1972), pp. 53-59. 

. Roy Lichtenstein. New York: Abbeville Press, 1983. 

Boatto, Albert, and Giordano Falzoni, eds. Lichtenstein. Col- 
lection of essays comprising Fantazaria, 1 (July-August 

Boime, Albert. "Roy Lichtenstein and the Comic Strip." Art 
Journal, 28 (Winter 1968-69), pp. 155-59. 

Coplans, John, ed. Roy Lichtenstein. New York: Praeger Pub- 
lishers, 1972. 

Lichtenstein, Roy. Talk presented at the College Art Associa- 
tion annual meeting, Philadelphia, 1964. Published in 
Ellen H. Johnson, ed. American Artists on Art from 1940 
to 1980. New York: Harper &. Row, 1982. 

Loran, Erie. "Cezanne and Lichtenstein: Problems of Trans- 
formation." Artforum, 2 (September 1963), pp. 34-35. See 
reply by Max Kozloff. "Art." The Nation, 197 (November 
2, 1963), pp. 284-87. 

. "Pop Artist or Copy Cats?" Art News, 62 (September 

1963), pp. 48-49, 61. 

Pasadena Art Museum, and the Walker Art Center, Min- 
neapolis. Roy Lichtenstein (exhibition catalogue), 1967. 
Essay by John Coplans. 

The Tate Gallery, London. Roy Lichtenstein (exhibition cata- 
logue), 1968. Interviews by Gene R. Swenson and John 
Coplans; essay by Richard Morphet. 

Waldman, Diane. Roy Lichtenstein (exhibition catalogue). 

New York: The Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum, 1969. 

. Roy Lichtenstein. Milan: Gabriele Mazzotta Editore, 


Robert Morris 

Antin, David. "Art &. Information, 1 : Grey Paint, Robert 
Morris." Art News, 65 (April 1966), pp. 22-24, 56-58. 

Compton, Michael, and David Sylvester. Robert Morris (ex- 
hibition catalogue). London: The Tate Gallery, 1971. 

The Corcoran Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C., and The 
Detroit Institute of Arts. Robert Morris (exhibition cata- 
logue), 1969. Essay by Annette Michelson. 

Friedman, Martin. "Robert Morris: Polemics and Cubes." Art 
International, 10 (December 1966), pp. 23-27. 

Tucker, Marcia. Robert Morris (exhibition catalogue). New 
York: Whitney Museum of American Art, and Praeger 
Publishers, 1970. 

Claes Oldenburg 

"Claes Oldenburg: Extracts from the Studio Notes (1962-64)." 
Artforum, 4 (January 1966), pp. 32-33. 

Johnson, Ellen H. Claes Oldenburg. Baltimore: Penguin 
Books, 1971. 

. "The Living Object." Art International, 7 (January 25, 

1963), pp. 42-45. 

Oldenburg, Claes. Injun e' Other Histories (1960). New York: 
Something Else Press, 1966. 

. Raw Notes: Documents and Scripts of the Perfor- 
mances: Stars, Moveyhouse, Massage, The Typewriter. 
With annotations by the author. Halifax: The Press of the 
Nova Scotia College of Art and Design, 1973. 

Rose, Barbara. Claes Oldenburg (exhibition catalogue). New 
York: The Museum of Modern Art, and Greenwich, 
Connecticut: New York Graphic Society, 1970. 

Store Days: Documents from The Store (1961) and Ray Gun 
Theater (1962). Selected by Claes Oldenburg and Emmett 
Williams. Photographs by Robert R. McElroy. New York: 
Something Else Press, 1967. 

Van Bruggen, Coosje. Claes Oldenburg: Mouse Museum/Ray 
Gun Wing. Translated by Machteld Schrameijer. Cologne: 
Museum Ludwig, 1979. 

Robert Rauschenberg 

Cage, John. "On Robert Rauschenberg, Artist, and His Work." 

Metro, 1 (May 1961), pp. 36-51. 
Forge, Andrew. Rauschenberg. New York: Harry N. Abrams 

(c. 1972). Autobiography by the artist. Revised edition. 
Fort Worth Art Center Museum, Fort Worth. Robert 

Rauschenberg: Selections (exhibition catalogue), 1969. 
Krauss, Rosalind. "Rauschenberg and the Materialized Image.' 

Artforum, 13 (December 1974), pp. 36-43. 
National Collection of Fine Arts, Smithsonian Institution, 

Washington, D.C. Robert Rauschenberg (exhibition cata- 
logue), 1976. Essay by Lawrence Alloway. 
Seckler, Dorothy. "The Artist Speaks: Robert Rauschenberg." 

Art m America, 54 (May-June 1966), pp. 72-84. 
Tomkins, Calvm. The Bride e' The Bachelors: The Heretical 

Courtship m Modern Art. New York: The Viking Press, 

. Off the Wall: Robert Rauschenberg and the Art World 

o/OurTime. Garden City, New York: Doubleday, 1980. 

James Rosenquist 

Alloway, Lawrence. "Derealized Epic." Artforum, 10 (June 
1972), pp. 35-41. 

156 Bibliography 

Geldzahlcr, Henry. ")amcs Rdscnquist's F-111." The Metro- 
politan Museum of Art lUillctm, 26 (March 1968), 
pp. 277-81. 

Lippard, Lucy R. "[ames Rosenquist: Aspects of a Multiple 
Art." Artforum, 4 (December 1965), pp. 41-45. 

Pincus-Witten, Robert. "Rosenquist and Samaras: The Ob- 
sessive Image and Post-Minimalism." Artforum, 1 1 (Sep- 
tember 1972), pp. 63-69. 

Siegel, Jeanne. "An Interview with |ames Rosenquist." 
Artforum, 10 (June 1972), pp. 30-34. 

Swenson, Gene R. "The F-111: An Interview with James 

Rosenquist." Partisan Review, 32 (Fall 1965), pp. 589-601. 

Tuclcer, Marcia. fames Rosenquist (exhibition catalogue). New 
York: Whitney Museum of American Art, 1972. 

Lucas Samaras 

Alioway, Lawrence. Samaras: Selected Works 1960-1966 (ex- 
hibition catalogue). New York: The Pace Gallery, 1966. 

Levin, Kim. Lucas Samaras. New York: Harry N. Abrams, 

Solomon, Alan. "An Interview with Lucas Samaras." 
Artforum, 5 (October 1966), pp. 39-44. 

Samaras, Lucas. Lucas Samaras (exhibition catalogue). New 
York: Whitney Museum of American Art, 1973. 

George Segal 

Friedman, Martin, and Graham W. J. Beal. George Segal: 
Sculptures (exhibition catalogue). Minneapolis: Walker 
Art Center, 1978. 

Geldzahler, Henry. "An Interview with George Segal." 
Artforum, 3 (November 1964), pp. 26-29. 

Johnson, Ellen H. "The Sculpture of George Segal." Art In- 
ternational, 8 (March 1964), pp. 46-49. 

Kaprow, Allan. "Segal's Vital Mummies." Art News, 62 (Feb- 
ruary 1964), pp. 30-33, 65. 

Seitz, WiUiam C. Segal. New York: Harry N. Abrams, 1972. 

Tuchman, Phyllis. George Segal. New York: Abbeville Press, 

. "Interview with George Segal." Art m America, 60 

(May-June 1972), pp. 74-81. 

Van der Marck, Jan. George Segal. New York: Harry N. 
Abrams, 1975. 

Leidcr, Philip. "Literalism and Abstraction: Frank Stella's 
Retrospective at the Modern." Artforum, 8 (April 1970), 
pp. 44-51. 

Richardson, Brenda, with the assistance of Mary Martha 

Ward. Frank Stella: The Black Paintings (exhibition cata- 
logue). Baltimore: The Baltimore Museum of Art, 1976. 

Rosenblum, Robert. Frank Stella. Baltimore: Penguin Books, 

"Frank Stella: Five Years of Variations of an 'Irreduci- 
ble' Theme." Artforum, 3 (March 1965), pp. 21-25. 

Rubin, William. Frank Stella (exhibition catalogue). New 
York: The Museum of Modern Art, and Greenwich, 
Connecticut: New York Graphic Society, 1970. 

Andy Warhol 

Andy Warhol. With contributions by Jonas Mekas and Calvin 
Tomkins. Greenwich, Connecticut: New York Graphic 
Society, 1970. 

. "Andy Warhol and Elvis Presley." Studio International, 

181 (February 1971), pp. 49-56. 

"Early Work: The Systematic Evolution of the Imper- 

sonal Style." Artforum, 8 (March 1970), pp. 52-59. 
Crone, Rainer. Andy Warhol. Translated by John William 

Gabriel. New York: Praeger Publishers, 1970. 
Geldzahler, Henry. "Andy Warhol." Art International, 8 (April 

1964), pp. 34-35. 
Gotham Book Mart Gallery, New York. Andy Warhol: His 

Early Works. 1947-1959 (exhibition catalogue). Compiled 

by Andrea Brown. 
Ratcliff, Carter. Andy Warhol. New York: Abbeville Press, 


Tom Wesselmann 

Glenn, Constance. Tom Wesselmann: The Early Years, Col- 
lages 1959-1962 (exhibition catalogue). Long Beach, Cali- 
fornia: The Art Galleries, California State University, 1974. 

Newport Harbor Art Museum, Balboa, California, and The 
Nelson Gallery-Atkins Museum, Kansas City. Tom 
Wesselmann: Early Still Lifes, 1962-1964 (exhibition cat- 
alogue), 1970. Introduction by Thomas H. Garver. 

Stealingworth, Slim |Tom Wesselmann). Tom Wesselmann. 
New York: Abbeville Press, 1980. 

Frank Stella 

Fried, Michael. Three American Painters: Kenneth Noland, 

fules Olitski, Frank Stella (exhibition catalogue). 

Cambridge, Massachusetts: Fogg Art Museum, Harvard 

University, 1965. 
Glaser, Bruce. "Questions to Stella and Judd." Edited by Lucy 

Lippard. Art News, 65 (September 1966), pp. 55-61. 

Robert Whitman 

The Hudson River Museum, Yonkers, New York. Palisade: 
Robert Whitman (exhibition catalogue), 1979. Compiled 
by Billy Kliiver and Julie Marten; interview with the 
artist by Barbara Rose. 

Segal, George. "On Whitman and Things." Arts Magazine, 47 
(November 1972), pp. 53-55. 


Paintings and sculptures are listed alphabetically by artist. Dimensions are given first m inches, then in centimeters: height 
precedes width precedes depth. A section on Fluxus material appears at the end without dimensions owing to the largely 
textual nature of the works. 

Carl Andre ib. 1935) 

Last Ladder, 1959 

Wood, 841/4 X 6'/8 X 6% (214 x 15.6 x 15.6) 

The Tate Gallery, London 

Pyramid (1959), reconstruction 1970 
Wood, 68% X 31 (174.9 x 78.7) 
Dallas Museum of Fine Arts 

George Brecht (b. 1926) 

Repository. 1961 

Mixed media assemblage, 40 Vs x 10 '/2 x 3'/8 

(102.6 X 26.7 X 7.9) 
The Museum of Modern Art, New York; 

Larry Aldrich Foundation Fund 

Iced Dice, realization of word event "chair" 
(1961), reconstruction 1984 

White wicker rocking chair, approximately 
48 X 36 (121.9 X 91.4) 

Original destroyed; reconstructed for exhibi- 
tion at the Whitney Museum of American 

Clothes Tree (c. 1963), reconstruction 1984 
Painted clothes tree with three hats, one coat, 
and two umbrellas, 71 x 17 k 29 Vi 
(182.9 X 68.6 X 74.9) 
Collection of Reinhard Onnasch; recon- 
structed for exhibition at the Whitney 
Museum of American Art 

Walter De Maria (b. 1935) 

Column with Ball. 1961 

Wood; column, 96 x 12 x 12 (243.8 

X 30.5 x 30.5); ball, 2 diameter (5.1) 
Collection of the artist 

Rope Box. 1961 

Wood box and rope: 60 x 24 x 6 'A 

(152.4 X 61 X 15.9); inscribed in pencil 
near the top of the box, pull rope to 


Private collection 

Statue of John Cage (1962), reconstruction 1984 
Plywood and wood dowels: base, 14'/2 x 14V2 

(36.8 x 36.8); column, 

84 high (213.4) 
Collection of the artist 

Walls m the Desert. 1964 

Graphite and colored pencil on paper, 

18'/4 X 85V4 (47.6 x 217.8) framed; each of 
SIX drawings, 9 x liy8(22.9 x 29.5| 
Private collection 

Jim Dine (b. 1935) 

Green Suit. 1959 

Oil and cloth, 62 x 24 (157.5 x 61) 
Collection of the artist, courtesy The Pace 
Gallery, New York 

Head (Hiding Face). 1959 

Oil and pasted cloth collage on gesso board, 

26% X 23 (67 X 58.4) 
The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York; 

Gift of Stanley Posthorn 

Bedspnng. 1960 

Mixed media construction, 48 x 72 x 8 

(121.9 X 182.9 X 20.3) 
Collection of Allan Kaprow and Vaughan 


Shoe, 1961 

Oil on canvas, 64 x 51'/2 (162.6 x 130.8) 

Private collection 

Black Zipper. 1962 

Oil and mixed media on canvas, 96 x 72 

(243.8 X 182.9) 
Collection of Ileana and Michael Sonnabend; 

on indefinite loan to The Baltimore 

Museum of Art 

Double Isometric Self-Portrait (Serape). 1964 
Oil with objects on canvas, 56% x 841/8 

(144.5 x 213.7) 
Whitney Museum of American Art, New 

York; Gift of Helen W. Beniamin in 

memory of her husband, Robert M. 

Beniamm 76.35 

Martha Edelheit (b. 1933) 

Frabjous Day. 1959 

Canvas, sheet aluminum, oil, and collage, 

58'/2 X 51'/2 (148.6 x 130.8) 
Collection of the artist 

Dan Flavin (b. 1933) 

Apolhnane wounded (to Ward facksonj. 

Crushed can, oil, pencil, on masomte, and 

plaster on pine, 12% x 19% x % 

(32.7 X 49 X 2.3) 
Collection of the artist 

Gus Schultze's screwdriver (to Dick Bellamv). 

Screwdriver, oil, pencil, on masomte, and 

acrylic on balsa, 15% x 17'/2 x 1^4 

(39.1 x 44.5 X 4.5) 
Collection of the artist 

icon IV (the pure land) (to David John Flavin 

[ 1 933-1 962j). 1962 
Formica and daylight fluorescent light, 

451/2 X 451/2 X 111/8(115.5 X 115.5 X 28.2) 
The National Gallery of Canada, Ottawa 

icon V (Goran's Broadway Flesh). 1962 

Oil on masomte, porcelain receptacles, clear 

incandescent candle bulbs, 

421/8 X 42% X 9% (107 x 107 x 25.2) 
Collection of Heiner Fnedrich 

the nominal three (to William of Ockham). 

Cool white fluorescent light, three units 
each, 96 high (244) 

The National Gallery of Canada, Ottawa; re- 
constructed by the artist for e.xJiibition at 
the Whitney Museum of American Art 

Red Grooms (b. 1937) 

Elephant. 1959 

Oil on canvas, 54i/4 x 48 (137.8 x 121.9) 

Collection of Anita Simmons 

Policewoman. 1959 

Wood and metal, 45 x 29 x 10 

(114.3 x 73.7 x 24.5) 
David K. Anderson Gallery, New York 

Set for The Burning Building (Happening) 

(1959), reconstruction 1984 
Mixed media; first presented at the Delancey 

Street Museum, New York 
Collection of the artist 

Jasper Johns (b. 1930) 

Target with Plaster Casts. 1955 

Encaustic and collage on canvas with objects, 

51 X 44 X 31/2 (129.5 x 111.8 x 8.9) 
Collection of Mr. and Mrs. Leo Castelli 

White Flag. 1955-58 

Encaustic and newsprint on canvas, 

521/4 X 78^/4 (132.7 X 200) 
Collection of Mr. and Mrs. Burton G. 


Gray Rectangles. 1957 
Encaustic on canvas, 6OI/K x 60i/a 

(152.7 X 152.7) 
Collection of Mr. and Mrs. Victor W. Ganz 

Flag on Orange Field II. 1958 

Encaustic on canvas, 54 x 36i/4 (137.2 x 87) 

Collection of Robert and Jane Rosenblum 

Donald Judd (b. 1928) 

Untitled. 1962 

Light cadmium red oil on Liquitex, sand on 
masomte with yellow Plexiglas, 
48 x 96 X 21/2 (121.9 x 243.8 x 6.4) 

Private collection 

Untitled. 1963 

Light cadmium red oil on wood, purple 

enamel on aluminum, 48 x 83 x 48 

(122 X 210.8 X 122) 
The National Gallery of Canada, Ottawa 

Untitled. 1963 

Light cadmium red oil on wood with 

metal lathe, 72 x 104 x 49 

(183 X 264.2 X 124.5) 
The National Gallery of Canada, Ottawa 

Untitled. 1963 

Light cadmium red oil on wood, 

191/2 X 45 X 301/2 (49.5 x 114.3 x 77.5) 
The National Gallery of Canada, Ottawa 

Untitled. 1964 

Turquoise pebbled Plexiglas and hot-rolled 

steel, 20 x 45 X 31 (50.8 x 115.2 x 78.7) 
Private collection 

Allan Kaprow (b. 1927) 

Yard [1961], reconstruction 1984 

Mixed media environment; first presented at 

the Martha lackson Gallery, New York 
Reconstructed by the artist for exhibition at 

the Whitney Museum of American Art 

Words (1962), reconstruction 1984 

Mixed media environment; first presented at 

the Smolin Gallery, New York 
Reconstructed by the artist for exhibition at 

the Whitney Museum of American Art 

Yayoi Kusama (b. 1929) 

Accumulation No. 1, 1962 

Paint on canvas stuffed with cotton batting, 

40 X 43 x 43 (101.6 x 109.2 x 109.2) 
Collection of Mr. and Mrs. Hart Perry 

No. B. 3. 1962 

Eggcrates and upholstery stuffing, 78 x 70 

(198.1 X 177.8) 
Collection of Mr. and Mrs. Hart Perry 


158 Works in the Exhibition 

Roy Lichtenstein [b. 1923) 

Bugs Bunny, 1958 

India ink on paper, 20 x 26 (50.8 x 66| 

Collection of the artist 

Mickey Mouse, 1958 

India ink and pastel on paper, 19 x 25 

148.2 X 63.5) 
Collection of the artist 

Emeralds, 1961 

Oil on canvas, 67y8 x 67% (171.8 x 171.1) 

Private collection 

Washing Machine, 1961 

Oil on canvas, 561/2 x 68 '/> (143.5 x 174| 

Collection of Richard Brown Baker 

Blam. 1962 

Oil on canvas, 68 x 80 (172.7 x 203.2) 

Collection of Richard Brovk-n Baker; on loan 

to the Yale University Art Gallery, New 


Masterpiece. 1962 

Oil on canvas, 54 x 54 (137.2 x 137.2) 

Collection of Agnes Gund 

Kiss with Cloud. 1964 

Oil and magna on canvas, 60 x 60 

(152.4 X 152.4) 
Collection of Irving Blum 

Robert Morris (b. 1931) 

Column (1961), reconstruction 1984 
Painted plywood, 192 x 24 x 24 

(487.7 X 61 X 61) 
Collection of the artist 

IBox. 1962 

Mixed media construction, 19 x 12% x l%t 

(48.3 X 32.4 X 3.5) 
Collection of Mr. and Mrs. Leo Castelli 

Metered Bulb. 1963 

Mixed media construction, HVi x S'/s x 8% 

(45.1 x 20.6 X 21) 
Collection of Jasper Johns 

Corner Piece (1964), reconstruction 1984 
Painted plywood, 78 x 108 (198,1 x 274.3) 
Reconstructed for exhibition at the Whitney 
Museum of American Art 

Claes Oldenburg (b. 1929) 

Woman's Leg. 1959 

Newspaper soaked in wheat paste over wire 

frame, painted with casein, 

38'/i X 16'/2 X 10 (97.8 x 41.9 x 25.4) 
Collection of Raymond Saroff 

Light Switches — Hard Version. 1964 
Painted wood, formica, metal, 

47% X 47% X 11% (121.3 X 121.3 x 29.8 
Private collection 

Works from The Street, first presented 
at the fudson Gallery, fudson Memorial 
Church, New York, I960: later pre- 
sented at the Reuben Gallery, New 
York, 1961: 

Big Man (Big Guy). 1960 

Corrugated cardboard, wood, newspaper, 

twine, painted with casein, 185 high (469.9) 
Museum Ludwig, Ludwig Collection, Cologne 

Car. 1960 

Corrugated cardboard, painted with casein 

and spray enamel, 13 '/i x 30'/2 x 7Vi 

(34.3 X 77.5 X 19.1) 
Museum Ludwig, Ludwig Collection, Cologne 

Car (Wall Piece). 1960 

Corrugated cardboard, painted with casein 

and spray enamel, 12'/2 x 22 (31.8 x 55.9) 
Museum Ludwig, Ludwig Collection, Cologne 

Fire from a Window. I960 
Paper, wood, painted with casein, 

151/2 X lOli X 4 (39.4 X 26.7 x 10.2) 
Museum Ludwig, Ludwig Collection, Cologne 

MUG (Hanging Figure in the Shape of a 

Mug). I960 
Corrugated cardboard on wood, painted with 

casein and spray enamel, 76 x 50 

(193 X 127) 
Museum Ludwig, Ludwig Collection, Cologne 

Street Chick, I960 

Cardboard and wood, painted with casein, 

35 high (88.9); base, 7 x 15' 2 (17.8 x 39.4) 
Museum Ludwig, Ludwig Collection, Cologne 

Street Head (Profile with Hat), 1960 
Burlap bag filled with newspaper, painted 

with casein, 76 ' 46(193 ' 116.8) 
Museum Ludwig, Ludwig Collection, Cologne 

Street Sign. 1960 

Corrugated cardboard, painted with casein, 

106 > 41 (269.2 « 104.1) 
Museum Ludwig, Ludwig Collection, Cologne 

Street Sign (I960), reconstruction (with altera- 
tions) 1984 

Corrugated cardboard, painted with casein, 
72 X 42 (182.9 x 106.7) 

Collection of the artist 

Three Street Figures. 1960 

Corrugated paper, wood, twine, wire, painted 

with casein, each approximately 

100 high (254) 
Museum Ludwig, Ludwig Collection, Cologne 

Works from The Store, first included in 
"Environments, Situations, Spaces" at 
the Martha Jackson Gallery, 1961; later 
presented at The Store, 107 East Second 
Street, New York, 1961-62, and at the 
Green Gallery, New York, 1962: 

Air Mail Letter, 1961 

Painted plaster, 978 x 5% x 9% 

(25.1 x 14.9 X 25.1) 
Collection of Marcia Marcus 

Black Girdle, 1961 

Painted plaster, 46 '/i x 40 x 4 

(118.1 X 101.6 X 10.7) 
Whitney Museum of American Art, New 

York; Promised Gift of Howard and Jean 

Lipman P54.80 

Black Ladies' Shoes. 1961 

Muslin soaked in plaster over wire frame, 

painted with enamel, 5'/8 x lOVs x 3 

(13 X 27 X 7.6) 
Collection of William J. Hokin 

Blue Hat. 1 96 1 

Muslin soaked m plaster over wire frame, 

painted with enamel, 8% x 12 x 6 

(22.2 x 30.5 X 15.2) 
Private collection 

Bowties. 1 96 1 

Muslin soaked in plaster over wire frame, 

painted with enamel, 18 « 20(45.7 x 50.8) 
Collection of Mr. and Mrs. Ronald K. 


Bunting. 1961 

Muslin soaked in plaster over wire frame, 

painted with enamel, 22 x 33'78 x 4% 

(55.9 X 86 X II. 1) 
Collection of the artist 

Candy Counter with Candy. 1961 
Enamel paint on plaster in a painted sheet 

steel and wood case, II 'A x 34% x 21% 

(29.2 X 88.3 X 55.2) 
Collection of William J. Hokin 

Cash Register. 1961 

Muslin soaked in plaster over wire frame, 

painted with enamel, 25 x 21 x 34 

(63.5 X 53.3 X 86.4) 
Private collection 

Cherry Pastry 1961 

Muslin soaked in plaster over wire frame, 
painted with enamel on separate red saucer, 
2'/2 X 2 X 51/2(6.4 X 5.1 X 14); saucer, 
8 diameter (20.3) 

Collection of Robert H. Halff 

Decimal Point of 9.99. 1 96 1 
Muslin soaked in plaster over wire frame, 
painted with enamel, 6% diameter (15.9) 
Collection of the artist 

Four Pies in a Glass Case. 1961 

Enamel on plaster pies in painted metal and 

glass case, 5'/4 x 30 x 9 

(13.3 X 76.2 X 22.9) 
Collection of Robert K. Hoffman 

Girl on Calendar. 1961 

Painted plaster, 21 - 14(53.3 ^ 35.6) 

Collection of William J. Hokin 

Half Cheese Cake. 1961 

Muslin soaked in plaster over wire frame, 

painted with enamel, 10 x 32 x 16 

(25.4 X 81.3 x 40.6) 
Collection of the artist 

Ice Cream Cone and Heel, 1961 

Muslin soaked in plaster over wire frame, 

painted with enamel, 22'/) x 22 '/2 

(57.2 X 57.2) 
Collection of Margo Leavin 

Iniun Souvenir. 1961 

Burlap soaked in plaster, painted with 

enamel, 8'/2 high (21.6) 
Collection of Arthur and Carol Goldberg 

lacket and Shirt Fragment. I96I 

Muslin soaked in plaster over wire frame, 

painted with enamel, 42'/8 x 30 x 6'/2 

(107 X 76.2 x 16.5) 
Collection of the artist 

Liver Sausage with Slices, 1961 
Burlap soaked in plaster, painted with en- 
amel, 5 X 10 X 12 (12.7 X 25.4 x 30.4) 
Collection of Mr. and Mrs. David K. 

Luckv Strike Pack. 1961 

Plaster and enamel on wood base, 5x3x1 

(12.7 X 7.6 X 2.5) 
Collection of William J. Hokin 

Match Cover. 1961 

Muslin soaked in plaster over wire frame, 

painted with enamel, 4 x 2% x I'/g 

(10.2 X 7 X 2.9) 
Collection of the artist 

Orange and Glass. 1961 

Muslin soaked in plaster over wire frame, 

painted with enamel, I6'/4 x 14 x 14 

(41.3 X 35.6 X 35.6) 
Collection of Mr. and Mrs. David K. 


Pile of Toast. 1961 

Muslin soaked in plaster over wire frame, 

painted with enamel, 9x4 (22.8 x 10.2) 
Collection of the artist 

Pmk Cap. 1961 

Muslin soaked in plaster over wire frame, 

painted with enamel, 37 x 38'/2 x 11% 

(94 X 97.8 X 30.2) 
Collection of the artist 

Red Tights with Fragment 9. I96I 
Muslin soaked in plaster over wire frame, 

painted with enamel, 69y8 x 34% x 8% 

(176.7 X 87 X 22.2) 
The Museum of Modern Art, New York, Gift 

of G. David Thompson 

Works in the Exhibition 159 

Roast Beef, 1961 

Muslin soaked in plaster over wire frame, 

painted with enamel, 14 x 17 x 16 

135.6 X 43.2 X 40.6) 
Collection of Ileana and Michael Sonnahend 

SanchMch. 1961 

Muslin soaked in plaster over wire frame, 
painted with enamel, VA x 6 x S'/i 
|5.7 x 15.2 X 14); base, Vi x 5% x 5 
(1.3 X 14.6 X 12.7) 

Collection of Margo Leavin 

Sardine Can with Two Sardines on Paper 
Bag. 1961 

Burlap soaked in plaster, painted with en- 
amel, 3' 2 ^ 14 V 10 (6.4 X 35.6 x 25.4) 

Collection of William |. Hokin 

Small Beauty Parlor Face. 1961 

Muslin soaked in plaster over wire frame, 

painted with enamel, 8 x 6 x 'A 

(20.3 X 15.2 X 1.3) 
Collection of Raymond Saroff 

Small Yellow Pie. 1961 

Muslin soaked in plaster over wire frame, 

painted with enamel, 16'/2 x 17% x 7 

(41.9 X 44.1 x 17.8) 
Collection of the artist 

Stockinged Thighs Framed by Skirt, 1961 
Muslin soaked in plaster over wire frame, 

painted with enamel, 34% x 41% 

(87.3 X 105.1) 
Collection of Holly and Horace Solomon 

39 Cents. 1961 

Muslin soaked in plaster over wire frame, 

painted with enamel, 29 x 38 x 4 

(73.7 X 96.5 X 10.2) 
Collection of William ]. Hokin 

Three Ladies Stockings. 1961 

Painted plaster and wood, 20% x 21'/2 

(51.8 X 54.6) 
Collection of William ]. Hokin 

Vulgar Pie. 1961 

Painted plaster on painted metal tray, 

12 X 71-2 X 9 (30.5 X 19.1 X 22.9); 

tray, 13'/8 diameter (35.2) 
Collection of Mr. and Mrs. Philip Gersh 

Watch in Red Box, 1961 

Muslin soaked in plaster over wire frame, 

painted with enamel, 5 'A x 6% x 6'/2 

(13.3 X 17.1 x 16.5) 
Collection of Taylor A. Smith and 

Edward B. Smith V 

The White Slip, 1961 

Painted plaster, 41% x 29'/4 x 3'/2 

(106 X 74.3 X 8.9) 
Whitney Museum of American Art, New 

York, Promised Gift of Howard and Jean 

Lipman P55.80 

Wrist Watch on Blue. 1961 

Muslin soaked in plaster over wire frame, 

painted with enamel, 41% x 29'/8 x S'/s 

(105.1 X 74 X 13) 
Collection of the artist 

Pastry Case I, 1961-62 

Enamel paint on nine plaster sculptures in 

glass showcase, 20% x 30% x 14% 

(52.7 x 76.5 X 37.3) 
The Museum of Modern Art, New York; The 

Sidney and Harriet Jams Collection 

Floor Cone. 1962 

Synthetic polymer paint on canvas filled with 

rubber and cardboard, 53% x 136 x 56 

(136.5 X 345.4 x 142.2) 
The Museum of Modern Art, New York; Gift 

of Philip [ohnson 

Giant Ice Cream Cone 1962 

Muslin soaked in plaster over wire frame, 

painted with enamel, 13y8 x 37'/2 x 13'/4 

(34 X 95.3 X 33.7] 
Collection of Ileana and Michael Sonnabend; 

on indefinite loan to the Baltimore 

Museum of Art 

Larry Poons (b. 1937) 

Enforcer, 1963 

Liquitex and fabric spray on canvas, 80 x 80 

(203.2 X 203.2) 
Private collection 

Lee's Retreat, 1963 

Liquitex and fabric spray on canvas, 80 x 80 

(203.2 X 203.2) 
Private collection 

Robert Rauschenberg (b. 1925) 

Bed. 1955 

Combine-painting with bed: oil and pencil on 
pillow, quilt, sheet, on wood supports, 
75'/4 X 31'/2 X 6'/2 (191.1 X 80 X 16.5) 

Collection of Mr. and Mrs. Leo Castelli 

Set for Paul Taylor's The Tower, 1957 
Mixed media construction, 119% x 16 x 48 

(302.9 X 40.6 X 121.9) 
Collection of Mr. and Mrs. Victor W. Ganz 

Canyon. 1959 

Combine-painting: oil, pencil, paper, metal, 
photograph, fabric, wood, on canvas, plus 
buttons, mirror, stuffed eagle, cardboard 
box, pillow, and paint tube, 
8IV4 X 70 X 24 (207.6 x 177.8 x 61) 

Collection of Ileana and Michael Sonnabend; 
on indefinite loan to The Baltimore 
Museum of Art 

Winter Pool. 1959 

Combine-paintmg: oil, paper, fabric, metal, 
transparent tape, wood, on canvas, plus 
wood ladder, handkerchief, and button, 
89'/2 x 58' : X 4 (227.3 x 148.6 x 10.2) 

Collection of Mr. and Mrs. Victor W. Ganz 

James Rosenquist (b. 1933) 

The Light That Won't Fail. I. 1961 
Oil on canvas, 72 x 96 (182.9 x 243.8) 
Hirshhom Museum and Sculpture Garden, 
Smithsonian Institution, Washington, DC. 

The Lines Were Deeply Etched on the Map of 

Her Face, 1961-62 
Oil on canvas, 66 x 78 (167.6 x 198.1) 
Collection of Mr. and Mrs. Robert Meltzer 

He Swallowed the Chain, 1963 

Paint, plastic, string, plus bamboo pole with 

canvas and wood base, 48 x 48 x 43 

(121.9 X 121.9 X 109.2) 
Collection of Richard Brown Baker; on loan 

to the Yale University Art Gallery, New 


Two 1959 People. 1963 

Oil and assemblage on canvas, 72 x 93 '/g 

(182.9 X 236.5) 
Rose Art Museum, Brandeis University, 

Waltham, Massachusetts; Gevirtz- 

Mnuchin Purchase Fund 

Lucas Samaras (b. 1936) 

Untitled. 1959 

Cloth and plaster, 9 'A x 7'/2 x 7'/2 

(23.5 X 19.1 X 19.1) 
Collection of the artist 

Large Untitled figsaw Puzzle, 1960 

Oil on cardboard, 64 x 78 (162.6 x 198.1) 

Collection of the artist 

Floor Piece. 1961 

Sculpmetal, 48 x 48 (121.9 x 121.9) 

Collection of the artist 

Great Plate, 1961 

Mixed media assemblage, 18 x 15 x 3 

(45.7 X 38.1 x 7.6) 
Collection of the artist 

Paper Bag #2 (Containing Book #2). 1962 
Mixed media assemblage, 17 x 12 x 7'/2 

(43.2 X 30.5 X 19.1) 
American Friends of the Israel Museum, 

New York 

George Segal (b. 1924) 

Man Seated at a Table. 1960 
Plaster, wood, glass, plastic material, 

SSI's X 37'-K X S5'/8 (140 X 95 x 140) 
Stadtisches Museum Monchengladbach, 

West Germany 

Woman Shaving Her Leg, 1963 
Plaster, metal, porcelain, and masonite, 
63 X 65 X 30(160 x 165.1 x 76.2) 
Collection of Mrs. Robert B. Mayer; on long- 
term loan to the Museum of Contemporary 
Art, Chicago 

Tony Smith (1912-1980) 

Black Box. 1962 

Painted steel, 22% x 24% x 32% 

(56.5 X 62.9 X 83.2) 
lack Tilton Gallery, New York 

Frank Stella (b. 1936) 

Conev Island. 1958 

Oil on canvas, 85% x 78% (216.5 x 200) 
Yale University Art Gallery, New Haven; Gift 
of Larom B. Munson, B.A. 1951 

Delta. 1958 

Enamel on canvas, SSVs x 97 (216.8 x 246.4) 

Collection of the artist 

Arundel Castle, 1959 

Black enamel on canvas, 121% x 73'/8 

(308.3 X 185.7) 
Hirshhorn Museum and Sculpture Garden, 

Smithsonian Institution, Washington, 


Henrv Garden, 1963 

Oil on canvas, 80 x 80 (203.2 x 203.2) 

Collection of Edward Cauduro 

Fez. 1964 

Fluorescent alkyd on canvas, 77 x 77 

(195.6 X 195.6) 
Albright-Knox Art Gallery, Buffalo; Gift of 

Seymour H. Knox, 1964 

Andy Warhol (b. 1928) 

Dick Tracv, 1960 

Oil on canvas, 7OV2 x 52% (179.1 x 133.7) 

Private collection 

$199 Television, 1960 

Oil on canvas, 62'/4 x 49% (158.1 x 125.7) 

Collection of Kimiko and John K. Powers 

Wigs, 1960 

Oil and wax crayon on canvas, 70'/8 x 40 

(178.1 X 101.6) 
Dia Art Foundation, New York 

Twenty-Five Colored Marilyns, 1962 
Acrylic on canvas, 89 x 69 (226.1 x 175.3) 
Fort Worth Art Museum; The Benjamin J. 
Tillar Memorial Trust, acquired from the 
collection of Vernon Nikkei, Clovis, New 

Orange Disaster. 1963 

Acrylic and silkscreen enamel on canvas, 

106 X 81 '2 (269.2 x 207) 
The Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum, New 

York; Gift, Harry N. Abrams Family 


160 Works in the Exhibition 

Robert Watts tb. 1<>23) 

Whitman's Assorted Chocolates, 1963 
Chrome, S'A x SVa x '/« (21 x 21 x 2.2) 
Collection of the artist 

Bread (19641, reconstruction 1984 
Plaster casts in wood display case, approx- 
imately 60 X 120 (152.4 X 304.8] 
Collection of the artist 

Buffer. 1964 

Chrome, 6 x 5'/2 x 6 diameter 

(15.2 X 14 X 15.21 
Collection of the artist 

Toin Wesselmann (b. 1931) 

Poitrait Collage #1. 1959 

Mixed media and collage on board, 9'/: x 11 

(24.1 X 27.9) 
Collection of Claire Wesselmann 

Still Life #24. 1962 

Acrylic polymer on board with attached 

fabric curtain, 48 x 58% x 778 

(121.9 X 149.5 x 20) 
The Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art, Kansas 

City, Missouri; Gift of the Guild of Friends 

Bathtub Collage #2. 1963 

Mixed media, collage, and assemblage on 

board, 48 x 72 x 6Vi 

(121.9 x 182.9 X 16.5) 
Private collection 

Interior #3, 1964 

Acrylic, polished metal, and assemblage 

(including working fluorescent light and 

clock on board), 66 x 52 x 9 

(167.6 .< 132.1 A 22.9) 
Private collection; on loan to the Museum 

Boymans-van Beunmgcn, Rotterdam 

Robert Whitman (b. 1935) 

Set for Mouth (theater piece, 1961), 

reconstruction 1984 
Mixed media, first presented at the Reuben 

Gallery, New York 
Collection of the artist 


Ay-O (b. 1931) 

Finger Box. 1964 

Brown paper tape over cardboard, with foam 

rubber contents 
Collection of Gilbert and Lila Silverman 

George Btecht (b. 1925) 

Spamsh Card Piece for Objects. 1959-60 

Printed text 

Collection of La Monte Young 

Exit. c. 1963 

Metal sign mounted on painted wood 

Collection of Gilbert and Lila Silverman 

Untitled, c. 1963 
Matches in aluminum foil 
Collection of La Monte Young 

Water Yam. 1963 

Cardboard box containing fifty-six orange and 

nineteen white Event cards 
Private collection 

George Brecht and Robert Watts (b. 1923) 

Lantern Extract/ An Aspect of Yam Festival, 

Printed mailed envelope containing ten Watts 

Event cards and eight Brecht Event cards 
Collection of La Monte Young 

Dick Higgins (b. 1938) 

Word compositions from Dick Higgins, 
Selected Earlv Works. 1955^1964. Berlin: 
Editions Ars Viva!, 1982 

Alison Knowles (b. 1933) 

Word compositions from 1961-65 from by 
Alison Knowles, New York: Something Else 
Press, 1965 

George Maciunas (1931-1978) 

Solo for Important Man. 1962 

Printed text 

Collection of La Monte Young 

Spell La Monte's Name. 1962 
Miscellaneous objects in a plastic box 
Collection of La Monte Young 

Twelve Piano Compositions for 

Nam lune Paik. 1962 
Printed text 
Collection of La Monte Yt)ung 

Homage to De Maria, c. 1962 

Printed text 

Collection of La Monte Young 

Manifesto, c. 1963 

Printed and handwritten text 

Private collection 

Jackson Mac Low (b. 1922) 

Peaks and Lamas. 1965; first performed 1961 
Original typed version of poem with 

accompanying chart and simultaneous 

version for performance 
Collection of the artist 

Performance poems from Jackson Mac Low, 
Asymmetries 1-260 11960). New York: 
Printed Editions, 1980 

Stanzas for Ins Lezak. 1960 
Original typed version of poem with annotat- 
ed directions for simultaneous performance 
Collection of the artist 

Robert Morris (b. 1931) 

Blank Form. 1960-61 

Printed text originally intended for An 

Anthology. 1963, La Monte Young, editor; 

deleted by the author prior to publication 
Private collection 

Carry an Iron, 1960-61 

Typed text 

Collection of La Monte Young 

Flag/elate. 1960-61 

Handwritten text 

Collection of La Monte Young 

Make a Box. 1960-61 

Typed text 

Collection of La Monte Young 

Yoko Ono (b. 1933) 

Program for Carnegie Recital Hall concert, 

New York, 1961 
Collection of La Monte Young 

Touch Poem. c. 1961 
Word compositions 
Collection of La Monte Young 

Grapefruit. 1964 

Word compositions from 1953-64 

Collection of La Monte Young 

Mieko (Chieko) Shiomi (b. 1938) 

Air Event, 1964 

Event card with balloon with "Alison 

Knowles" written on it 
Collection of Gilbert and Lila Silverman 

Events and Games. 1964-65 

Plastic box with label, containing twenty 

scores printed on cards 
Collection of Gilbert and Lila Silverman 

Robert Watts (b. 1923) 

Safe Post/ K. U.K. Feldpost/fockpost. 1962 
Fifteen different images printed on gummed 

and perforated paper 
Collection of Gillsert and Lila Silverman 

Event cards: Bean on Phitc. Car-Flashhght. 
Keycase-Moth, Mailbox Event. Page Not 
There, Position on Rain, 1963-64 

Collection of the artist 

Chromed Toothbrush, c. 1964 

Chromed toothbrush 

Collection of Gilbert and Lila Silverman 

La Monte Young (b. 1935) 

Composifjon 2960 #7. 1960 
Handwritten score 
Collection of the artist 

Composition 1961, 1961 
Printed book score 
Collection of the artist 

Word compositions from An Anthology, 1963, 
La Monte Young, editor: Composition I960 
#2, Composition i960 #3. Composition 
1960 #4, Composition 1960 #5, Piano 
Piece for Terrv Rilev #/. Composition 1960 

Private collection 

Newspapers, Anthologies, and Documentary 

V TRE. 1962 

George Brecht, designer and editor 
One leaf printed both sides 
Private collection 

An Anthology. 1963 

First edition, uncollated pages 

La Monte Young, editor, texts by George 
Brecht, Glaus Bremer, Earle Brown, Joseph 
Byrd, |ohn Cage, Walter De Maria, Dennis, 
Henry Flynt, Simone Forti, Dick Higgins, 
Toshi Ichiyanagi, Terry lennings, Ray 
Johnson, Jackson Mac Low, Richard 
Maxfield, Yoko Ono, Nam |une Paik, Terry 
Riley, Diter Rot, Emmett Williams, 
Christian Wolff, La Monte Young 

Private collection 

Fluxus News-Policy Letter No. 6. 1963 

George Maciunas, editor 

Mimeograph printed on back of a Ben Vautier 

Collection of Gilbert and Lila Silverman 

Yam Festival Newspaper. 1963 

George Brecht and Robert Watts, designers 

and editors 
Original collage 
Collection of Gilbert and Lila Silverman 

cc V TRE. Fluxus Newspaper #1, 1964 

George Brecht and George Maciunas, editors 


Collection of Gilbert and Lila Silverman 

cc V TRE. Fluxus Newspaper #2, 1964 

George Maciunas, editor 


Collection of Gilbert and Lila Silverman 

cc Valise e TRanglE. Fluxus Newspaper #3, 

George Maciunas, editor 
Collection of La Monte Young 

Flux-Kit (A' Copy). 1965 

Vinyl attache case with silkscreen title, 
contains objects and printed texts by Ay-O, 
George Brecht, Dick Higgins, loe lones, 
Alison Knowles, Takehisa Kosugi, Nam 
June Paik, Ben Patterson, Mieko (Chieko) 
Shiomi, Ben Vautier, Robert Watts, Emmett 
Williams, and La Monte Young 

Collection of Gilbert and Lila Silverman 

An Anthology of Concrete Poetry. Emmett 
Williams, editor. New York: Something 
Else Press, 1967